%  '1 


LIBRARY  OF  THE  THEOLOGICAL  SEMINAR' 

PRINCETON,     N.    J. 

Presented  by 

BV  4460  .R42  1835 

Real  dialogues  on  the 
evidences  of  Christianity 


•^••{  ^.0^^-^/^'^ 


REAL  DIALOGUE^ 

JAN  31  195 

EVIDENCES  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 


DEATH    BED    SCENES.' 


BY  A  CLERGYMAN  OF  THE  CHURCH  OF  ENGLAND. 


PHEPARED  FOR  ABBOTT'S   FLKE-SIDE  SERIES. 


NEW  YORK: 

PUBLISHED  BY  LEAVITT,  LORD,  &  CO. 

182    Broadway. 

BOSTON:— CROCKER  &  BREWSTER, 
4  7  Washington  Street. 

Is  sTT 


Entered  according  to  the  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1834,  by  Lkavitt, 
LOHD,  &  Co.,  in  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  Southern 
District  of  New  York. 


STEREOTYPED   BY   F.    F.  EIPLEY. 


PREFACE  BY  THE  AMERICAN  EDITOR. 


The  following  Dialogues  upon  the  Evidences  of  Chris- 
tianity, originally  appeared  in  a  much  larger  work,  enti- 
tled "  Death-Bed  Scenes,"  which  has  had  a  considerable 
circulation  in  England.  They  are  brought  forward  now 
in  this  form,  because  they  present,  in  a  very  lucid  and 
striking  light,  the  argument  for  Christianity,  and  at  the 
same  time  exhibit  very  clearly,  the  origin,  the  nature,  and 
the  tendencies  of  infidelity,  in  its  various  forms.  Such  a 
work,  adapted  thus  to  popular  use,  seems  peculiarly  suited 
to  the  exigencies  of  our  country  at  the  present  time.  It  is 
well  adapted,  not  only  to  convince  the  doubting,  but  to 
aid  those  already  convinced  in  their  conversations  with 
others.  It  furnishes  materials  which  the  Pastor,  the 
Sabbath  School  Teacher,  and  the  Parent  can  employ  to 
great  advantage,  in  the  instruction  of  those  committed  to 
their  charge. 

The  author  of  the  Dialogues  asserts,  that  the  scenes 
to  which  he  introduces  the  reader  he  actually  witnessed, 
and  that  the  conversation  recorded,  actually  took  place. 
He  says,  the  elevation  of  style,  "  may  at  times  create  the 
reasonable  suspicion,  that  the  whole  recorded  transaction 
is  illusory.  Indeed,  this  suspicion  will,  at  any  rate,  some- 
times arise,  because  the  tone  will  be  now  and  then  above 


iV  PREFACE. 

the  tone  of  usual  conversation ;  and  because  ideas  and 
expressions  will  be  ascribed  to  particular  persons  of  which 
those  persons  will  be  thought  incapable. 

"  In  point  of  fact,  I  am  often  in  situations  in  which  I 
am  led  to  preach,  rather  than  to  speak ;  I  am  compelled, 
that  is,  to  speak  continuously ;  and  then  the  magnitude 
of  the  subject  would  naturally  raise  any  man's  language, 
under  the  same  circumstances,  to  a  loftier  standard. 
With  respect  to  others,  I  always  preserve  their  ideas,  and 
sometimes  their  very  words,  when  there  is  any  thing 
remarkable  in  them.  But  I  have  not  been  studious  about 
it,  and  especially  in  the  conversations  related  to  happen 
between  myself  and  people  of  low  rank,  I  have  discarded 
almost  all  their  vulgarisms ;  and  also  I  have  put  their 
ideas  into  better  shape  and  form,  than  they  would  have 
done  for  themselves.  For  I  did  not  consider  this  to  be  a 
matter  of  any  essential  concern.  Their  meaning,  and  not 
their  actual  expressions,  is  all  that  is  absolutely  necessary 
to  be  known." 

We  think  that  no  one  can  read  the  following  pages, 
without  being  interested  and  instructed.  And  at  the  pre- 
sent time,  when  such  vigorous  efforts  are  made  to  under- 
mine the  Christian  faith,  it  seems  peculiarly  desirable 
that  the  evidences  of  revealed  religion  should  be  presented 
in  every  form  which  can  attract  the  reader.  We  have 
found  it  necessary,  in  preparing  these  narratives  for  the 
American  press,  to  omit  many  passages,  which  could  only 
be  interesting  to  English  readers. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I.  The  Real  Objection  to  Christianity.. .9 
The  strangers.  Character  of  a  parishioner.  The  pew. 
A  few  days  at  church.  My  first  visit.  ReUgious  con- 
versation. The  chocolate  party.  Proper  proof  of  Chris- 
tianity. Laws  of  nature.  Miracles.  Reasoning  in  a  circle. 
Important  distinction  ;  doctrines  and  precepts.  Simple 
view  of  the  case.  No  other  way  of  authenticating  a  mes- 
sage from  Heaven,  but  by  miracles  or  by  prophecy. 

New  difficulty.  The  insignificance  of  this  earth.  An- 
swer. The  Divine  object  in  the  creation  of  the  world. 
Close  of  the  visit. 

Patient  solicitude.  Apology.  The  proposed  ride.  Ques- 
tions and  answers.  No  desire  for  the  truth.  Approaching 
the  real  difficulty.  Dread  of  the  truth  of  Christianity.  A 
wicked  life  and  no  repentance.    Vain  hope  of  annihilation. 

CHAPTER  n.    The  Main  Argument 65 

The  ascent  of  the  hill.    Scenery.    Discussion  planned. 
Sacrifices.     Their  origin.      Repentance.     An  atonement 
agreeable  to  the  common  sense  of  mankind.    Jesus  Christ 
1* 


VI  CONTENTS. 

not  merely  a  martyr.  Texts.  Figurative  language.  No 
human  ransom  possible.    End  of  the  ride. 

Another  visit.  A  new  acquaintance.  The  introduction. 
Flippancy.  The  prophecies  examined.  High  authority  in 
their  favor.  Sir  Isaac  Newton.  Intelligibleness  of  the 
prophets.  State  of  the  discussion.  Porphyry  and  his 
theory.    Various  ancient  testimonies. 

The  collation.  The  kind  of  evidence  demanded  by  the 
infidel.  Apparitions  from  the  dead  would  not  convince. 
Full  examination  of  this  subject.  The  laugh  turned.  A 
retreat. 

Paralysis.  Scene  in  the  sick  chamber.  Design  of  af- 
fliction. Licentiousness ;  its  guilt  and  sorrow.  Remorse. 
Penitence.  A  mediator  needed.  The  Scripture  scheme  of 
a  mediator  between  God  and  man.  Administration  of  the 
sacrament.    Penitence  and  confession. 

Another  visit.    Peace  and  comfort.    The  last  hour. 

CHAPTER  in.    The  Spirit  of  Infidelity 183 

The  application.  The  sick  man's  character.  Scene  in 
the  cottage.  Pecuniary  relief.  The  sick  man's  ground  of 
hope.  The  true  standard.  All  men  sinners.  Repentance 
no  atonement  for  sin. 

Second  visit.  Melancholy  scene.  Objections  to  Chris- 
tianity. Its  recentness.  Its  partial  extent.  These  objec- 
tions examined.  Miracles.  Presumptions  in  their  favor. 
Nature  of  the  Christian  miracles. 

Third  visit.  The  doctrine  of  the  mediator.  Need  of  a 
savior  and  mediator  between  God  and  man.  A  little  com- 
fort in  the  last  hour. 


CONTENTS.  Vn 

CHAPTER  IV.    The  End  of  Infidelity 232 

The  rainy  day.  A  visitor.  Discussion  about  the  tithes. 
Adjustment.  First  payment.  The  receipt.  The  infidel's 
wishes  about  death.  The  beautiful  apple  tree.  The  sap. 
Pistils  and  stamens.    Proofs  of  contrivance. 

A  new  meeting.  Objection  to  the  doctrine  of  a  creator. 
The  nettles.  Examination  of  them.  Their  use.  Account 
of  the  creation.  Third  interview.  Resurrection  of  the 
body.    The  field  of  grain. 

A  walk  through  the  parish.  The  news.  The  infidel's 
vices.    His  end.    The  funeral.    Lesson  to  be  learned. 


REAL   DIALOGUES 

ON  THE 

EVIDENCES   OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

CHAPTER  L 

THE  REAL  OBJECTION    TO    CHRISTIANITY. 

Having  observed  a  gentleman  and  lady  at 
church  two  or  three  Sundays  in  succession,  both 
morning  and  afternoon,  sitting  sometimes  in  one 
pew  and  sometimes  in  another,  as  the  pew-openers 
were  able  to  accommodate  them,  I  inquired  who 
they  were,  and  found  that  they  were  the  friends 
and  visitors,  of  their  brother,  a  gentleman  who 
had  a  handsome  villa  in  my  parish.  This  informa- 
tion, and  the  appearance  of  the  strangers  them- 
selves, together  with  the  regularity  of  their  attend- 
ance at  church,  suggested  a  hope  to  me,  that 
through  their  means  I  might  become  acquainted 
with  my  wealthy  parishioner,  who  had  hitherto 
shunned  all  my  advances,  and  kept  aloof  from  any 
sort  of  acquaintance  with  me,  from  the  conscious- 
ness of  his  own  profligacy,  and  the  total  absence  of 
all  desire  to  chanofe  his  mode  of  life  and  character. 


10  REAL  OBJECTION  TO  CHRISTIANITY. 

Whilst  I  was  deliberating  upon  this  subject, 
the  strangers,  whose  names  were  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Harrison,  came  together  to  the  Rectory;  and, 
after  the  first  salutations  were  over,  Mr.  Harrison 
having  stated  his  wish  to  have  some  private  con- 
versation with  me,  I  retired  with  him  into  the 
Shrubbery ;  and  here  he  opened  to  me  at  large  the 
lamentable  case  of  his  brother-in-law.  He  was  a 
man  of  considerable  fortune,  who  had  held  an 
office  under  the  government.  Unmarried  him- 
self, he  had  lived  chiefly  w4th  unmarried  men,  and 
without  any  restraint  as  to  manners  and  conver- 
sation. He  condemned  the  Christian  religion,  be- 
cause it  condemned  him,  and  because  he  knew  no- 
thing of  it  but  the  objections  against  it.  To  himself 
and  his  companions  it  was  the  theme  of  many  a 
scoff,  and  since  he  had  been  in  my  parish  he  had 
never  joined  in  any  of  its  sacred  rites.  He  could 
not,  indeed,  w^ell  have  done  so  without  a  terrible 
disturbance  of  his  opinions  and  practices.  But 
he  had  no  wish  even  to  set  an  example  of  going 
to  church  ;  and  thus,  there  being  nothing  to  bring 
him  there,  and  much  to  keep  him  away,  it  seemed 
likely,  without  some  special  interference  of  Pro- 
vidence, that  he  might  have  gone  on  uninterrupt- 
edly in  the  broad  way  to  destruction. 

However,  a  grievous  sickness  surprised  him  in 
the  midst  of  his  career,    when  he  appeared    to 


REAL  OBJECTION   TO  CHRISTIANITY.  11 

have  health,  and  strength,  and  length  of  days  be- 
fore him.  In  an  instant  he  lost  the  use  of  all  his 
lower  limbs.  He  was  stretched,  as  he  supposed, 
on  the  bed  of  death.  There  was  no  creature 
about  him  that  had  any  affection  for  him.  He 
reflected,  and  he  was  humbled.  He  longed  for 
the  tender  care  and  consolations  of  his  sister ;  he 
adapted  his  family  to  her  reception,  and  she  came 
to  him,  together  with  her  husband,  with  all  the 
speed  in  their  power.  After  their  arrival  he 
seemed  to  mend,  and  could  move  about  on  crutches. 
Nor  had  he  turned  a  deaf  ear  to  their  gentle 
insinuations  about  religion ;  but,  on  the  contrary, 
in  consequence  of  what  they  had  said  to  him  of 
my  preaching,  he  had  expressed  a  desire  of  coming- 
to  church,  if  a  pew  could  be  found  for  him,  suitable 
to  his  present  circumstances.  And  this,  therefore, 
was  the  inquiry  which  Mr.  Harrison  had  now 
visited  me  to  make. 

Fortunately  I  was  able  to  do  them  this  service. 
There  was  a  pew  near  one  of  the  doors,  on  the 
ground-floor,  the  usual  occupiers  of  which  were 
absent.  I  made  arrangements  for  having  it  as- 
signed to  them,  and  on  the  following  Sunday 
morning,  to  my  great  satisfaction,  I  saw  the  sick 
man  in  it.  His  carriage  had  brought  him  to  the 
church-gates,  and  from  thence,  with  the  help  of  a 
servant  and  his  crutches,  he  had  hobbled  to  his 


12  REAL  OBJECTION  TO  CHRISTIANITY. 

seat.  This  he  did  two  or  three  times,  but  the  fa- 
tigue of  it  was  so  very  severe,  that,  after  such  a 
trial,  he  was  compelled  to  relinquish  any  further 
attempt.  What  had  been  the  effect  upon  his 
mind,  I  could  not  precisely  ascertain.  It  seemed, 
from  his  sister's  account,  that  he  had  been  struck 
with  the  appearance  of  a  full  church,  and  of  so 
much  earnestness  and  devotion  in  the  congrega- 
tion, and  he  had  thought,  perhaps,  within  himself, 
that  there  might  be  more  truth  in  the  matter  than 
he  was  yet  aware  of;  for  why  should  so  many 
people  be  mistaken,  and  he  only  and  his  compan- 
ions in  the  right?  The  clergyman,  indeed,  had 
been  educated  for  the  purpose,  and  might  be  said 
to  depend  for  his  maintenance  upon  the  upholding 
of  the  Christian  religion ;  but  this  suspicion  attach- 
ed scarcely  to  any  body  else.  However,  mere 
custom,  and  habit,  and  early  prepossession,  would 
account  for  a  great  deal ;  they  were  so  brought 
up,  and  now  they  continued  in  it  without  reasoning 
about  it  at  all.  In  short,  as  Mrs.  Harrison  thought, 
her  brother  was  at  this  time  a  confirmed  sceptic, 
and  she  was  extremely  anxious  that  I  should  see 
him  and  talk  to  him. 

I  was  quite  ready ;  so  I  called,  under  the  pre- 
tence of  returning  Mr.  Harrison's  visits,  and  also 
of  asking  the  patient  himself  how  he  was,  after  his 
painful  exertions  to  attend  church.     I  was  taken 


REAL  OBJECTION  TO  CHRISTIANITY.  13 

at  once  into  the  room  where  he  happened  to  be, 
and  where  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Harrison  were  sitting 
with  him.  At  first  he  appeared  a  little  flurried, 
and  my  appearance  seemed  to  be  both  unexpected 
and  disagreeable  to  him ;  but  by  degrees  we  fell 
into  conversation,  and  every  token  of  unpleasant 
feeling  entirely  vanished. 

Gradually,  the  conversation  was  turned  to  re- 
ligious subjects,  and  Mr.  Compton,  for  that  was 
his  name,  commenced  an  attack  upon  some  of  the 
distinguishing  doctrines  of  the  gospel.  But  he 
found  his  ignorance  exposed,  and  his  attempts  at 
ridicule  foiled.  At  last  he  shrugged  up  his  should- 
ers and  exclaimed, 

"  Ah !  Sir,  the  difficulties  thicken  upon  us  so 
fast,  that  I  shall  soon  be  lost  in  the  multitude  and 
the  intricacy  of  them.  I  cannot  presume.  Dr. 
Warton,  to  occupy  so  much  of  your  valuable  time." 

This  was  a  civil  mode  of  wishing  me  good 
morning.  But  I  was  very  unwilling  that  the  con- 
ference should  end  exactly  so,  and  determined  to 
attempt  at  least  to  make  an  opening  for  a  future 
conversation ;  so  I  said,  "  Oh !  pray.  Sir,  do  not 
spare  me,  by  any  means.  My  time  is  only  valua- 
ble whilst  it  is  thus  and  similarly  employed.  Be- 
sides, it  may  be  well  for  yourself,  in  the  present 
precarious  state  of  your  health,  to  have  these  re- 
ligious difficulties  cleared  away,  if  it  can  be  done ; 
2 


14  REAL  OBJECTION   TO  CHRISTIANITY. 

and  I  do  not  know  to  whom  the  duty  so  properly 
belongs  as  to  we." 

He  was  silent,  and  seemed  unable  to  determine 
what  course  to  take.  Upon  which  Mrs.  Harrison, 
interposed,  and  said,  "  Dear  brother,  as  Dr.  War- 
ton  is  so  kind,  we  will  continue  the  discussion  to- 
morrow, when  I  hope  you  will  be  a  little  stronger. 
I  speak  for  myself  too,  for  I  have  profited  already, 
and  I  am  sure  I  shall  profit  more  by  what  I  fore- 
see is  to  come.  It  is  impossible  for  any  of  us  to 
be  the  worse  for  it." 

This  judicious  speech  settled  his  wavering 
thoughts ;  so  he  said  hastily,  but  pleasantly, 
"  Then  we  will  give  you  chocolate  to-morrow.  Dr. 
Warton,  at  one  o'clock."  Upon  this  I  bowed, 
and  departed. 

The  next  day  I  went  according  to  the  appoint- 
ment. He  was  on  the  sofa  as  before ;  but  I  learnt 
from  his  sister,  that  he  had  passed  a  bad  night, 
and  that  it  was  with  some  difficulty  they  had  got 
him  up,  and  prepared  him  for  my  reception. 
However,  as  he  was  alarmed  about  himself,  I  ex- 
pected to  find  him  so  much  the  more  serious,  and 
open  to  conviction.  In  fact,  it  was  no  light  matter 
that  we  were  about  to  contend  for,  but  life  or  death ; 
whether  the  remnant  and  the  close  of  his  mortal 
existence  should  be  cheered  or  not  by  the  bright 
prospects  of  the  Christian  religion. 


REAL  OBJECTION  TO  CHRISTIANITY.  15 

When  we  were  comfortably  seated,  and  some 
common  things  had  been  said,  observing  him  very 
much  depressed,  I  endeavored  at  once  to  turn  his 
thoughts  towards  reh'gion,  by  remarking,  what  a 
vast  advantage  we  had  over  the  very  wisest  of  an- 
cient times,  in  regard  to  the  means  of  supporting 
pain  and  evil  with  patience  and  resignation.  In 
their  beautiful  works  which  have  come  down  to 
us,  they  talk  perpetually  of  a  fate  which  none  can 
control,  and  of  the  folly  of  complaining  where 
there  is  no  remedy.  With  no  better  reasons  than 
these,  the  Stoic  could  arm  himself  with  triple  steel, 
impenetrable  by  any  assault ;  and  buffet  the  waves 
of  adversity,  without  sinking  under  them.  How 
much  rather,  then,  must  the  Christian  be  firmly 
upheld,  who  sees,  in  every  thing  that  befalls  him, 
the  hand  of  a  wise  and  merciful  Providence  out- 
stretched over  him;  and  which  disciplines  him 
for  a  better  and  more  durable  existence  hereafter. 

"  Certainly,"  the  sick  man  said,  "this  is  more 
comfortable  and  animating.  The  other  is  cold 
and  gloomy  enough.  What  a  pity  that  the  Chris- 
tian account  of  things  cannot  be  more  satisfactorily 
made  out,  so  as  to  leave  no  shadow  of  doubt  in 
the  mind!" 

"  Then,"  I  said,  "  if  the  thing  were  mado  out 
to  an  incontrovertible  certainty,  there  would  be  no 
room  for  faith  at  all,  which  is  ordained,  however. 


16  REAL   OBJECTION   TO  CHRISTIANITY. 

to  be  the  constant  exercise  and  trial  of  the  Chris- 
tian. But,  with  respect  to  the  proof  which  you 
call  unsatisfactory,  wherein  does  it  fail  ?  If  it  be 
not  actual  demonstration,  what  matter  of  fact  ever 
had  greater  evidence?" 

"  A  l)Ook  which  relates  extraordinary  things 
cannot  be  admitted  without  extraordinary  proof," 
he  said. 

"  Certainly,"  I  rejoined,  "  the  book  records 
miracles,  and  miracles  perhaps  require  more,  or 
greater,  evidence  than  other  facts ;  yet  it  can  only 
be  evidence  of  the  same  kind  as  is  necessary  to 
establish  those  other  facts.  Of  course,  we  must 
have  in  all  cases  of  facts  the  testimony  of  witnesses. 
But  the  criterion  to  try  the  credit  of  witnesses 
is  this.  It  is  directly  as  their  knowledge  of  the 
facts  which  they  relate  and  the  impossibility  of 
their  being  deceived  themselves ;  and  inversely 
as  their  interest,  or  wish  to  deceive  us  ;  so  that  if 
they  are  perfectly  acquainted  with  the  facts,  and 
can  have  no  probable  wish  or  interest  to  deceive, 
their  credit  is  complete.  This  was  the  case  with 
the  writers  of  the  New  Testament ;  they  could 
not  by  any  means  be  deceived  themselves,  or  ig- 
norant of  the  fact  of  miracles  being  performed, 
especially  as  they  themselves  performed  them 
every  day;  and  men,  who  sacrificed  their  lives, 
rather  than  forbear  to  affirm  what  thev  affirmed, 


REAL  OBJECTION  TO  CHRISTIANITY.  17 

could  have  no  conceivable  worldly  interest  at 
least  in  view,  which  might  create  a  wish  in  them 
to  deceive  the  rest  of  mankind.  Thus  the  matter 
stands  simply.  Then  comes  the  collateral  evi- 
dence of  the  truth  of  the  miracles,  which  seems  to 
have  a  strength  about  it  incapable  of  being  shaken  ; 
I  mean  the  rapid  propagation  of  Christianity  in 
the  world,  which  cannot  be  accounted  for,  under 
all  the  circumstances,  without  miracles." 

*'  Yes,"  he  said,  "  but  the  evidence  against 
miracles  is  stronger  than  any  evidence  can  pos- 
sibly be  in  their  favor.  God  has  established 
certain  laws  to  regulate  the  course  of  nature ;  and 
that  he  should  change  or  suspend  his  own  laws 
is  so  improbable  as  to  exceed  credulity.  In  short, 
no  evidence  can  prove  such  a  thing.  Let  your 
evidence  come  as  near  as  you  please  to  demon- 
stration itself,  yet  I  consider  it  to  be  a  certainty,  on 
the  other  side,  that  God  never  has,  and  never 
will,  alter  those  laws.  Indeed  such  a  proceeding 
would  disturb  all  our  knowledge  of  nature,  and 
overturn  the  conclusions  of  all  our  experience." 
"  If  miracles  were  performed  daily,  or  very  often," 
I  replied,  "  the  effect  might  be  as  you  describe ; 
but  it  would  be  too  much  to  say,  that  a  certain 
number  of  miracles  having  been  performed  in 
certain  parts  of  the  world,  about  1800  years  ago, 
therefore  the  knowledge  and  experience  of  the 
2* 


18  REAL  OBJECTION  TO  CHRISTIANITY. 

whole  world,  and  of  all  subsequent  ages,  must  be 
overturned  by  it.  The  very  utmost  that  could  be 
imagined  is  this ;  that  persons  seeing  a  vast  num- 
ber of  miracles  continually,  might  begin  to  doubt 
what  wjis  nature  and  what  was  not.  But,  in 
truth,  only  the  very  weakest  persons  could  be  de- 
ceived for  a  moment.  If  we  were  now  to  see  a 
man  cure  twenty  or  a  hundred  people  in  one  day, 
of  the  most  dreadful  diseases,  by  merely  touching 
them,  would  that  at  all  disturb  our  ideas  with  re- 
spect to  the  processes  of  medicine?" 

Here  I  paused ;  but  Mr.  Compton  not  speak- 
ing, I  continued  thus :  "  Besides,  it  is  to  be  taken 
into  the  account,  that  the  person  performing  the 
miracles  has  an  errand  to  deliver  from  God ;  and 
also  that  he  performs  the  miracles  expressly  to 
prove  his  divine  commission.  Miracles  are  not  to  be 
supposed  to  be  performed  at  random,  and  we  know 
not  why ;  but  immediately  upon  seeing  a  miracle, 
and  our  attention  together  with  our  astonishment 
being  aroused  by  it,  we  shall  naturally  look  to  the 
doer,  to  hear  what  he  will  also  say  to  us;  and  if 
what  he  says  be  worthy  of  God,  we  shall  believe  it 
to  come  from  God,  and  that  the  miracle  is  the  work 
of  divine  power." 

•'  Do  you  allow  then,"  he  inquired  eagerly, 
"that  real  miracles  may  be  performed  by  any 
Other  than  a  divine  power  ?" 


REAL  OBJECTION  TO  CHRISTIANITY.  19 

"  That  is  a  question  which  I  cannot  settle,"  I 
said.  "  But  to  argue  safely  we  must  allow  it.  A 
miracle  is  something  out  of  the  common  course 
of  things,  and  beyond  the  power  of  man ;  and 
what  beings  there  may  be  between  man  and  God, 
capable  of  performing  miracles,  it  is  impossible 
for  us  to  conjecture.  We  know,  however,  from 
Scripture,  of  a  whole  class  of  beings  superior  in 
power  to  man  and  hostile  to  man,  who  probably 
can  perform  miracles.  Scripture  itself  seems  to 
insinuate  that  they  can ;  and  moreover,  that  we 
may  be  deceived  by  their  miracles,  whether  false 
or  true.  For  this  reason,  therefore,  when  we  see 
what  we  suppose  to  be  a  miracle,  we  must  not  be 
carried  away  by  our  astonishment,  but  attend  to 
what  the  doer  says.  If  the  doer  should  tell  us  to 
worship  the  devil,  we  detect  the  miracle  immedi- 
ately, whether  a  real  or  a  pretended  one,  to  have 
the  devil  for  its  author ;  but  if  the  doctrine  taught 
be  for  our  improvement  and  happiness,  we  hail 
the  messenger  of  God." 

Here  Mr.  Compton  interrupted  me,  by  saying 
with  a  triumphant  air,  "  I  have  often  heard.  Sir, 
that  the  doctrines  of  the  gospel  are  proved  by  the 
miracles,  and  now  you  tell  me  that  the  miracles 
are  proved  by  the  doctrines.  Is  not  this  what 
they  call  arguing  in  a  circle,  which  never  brings 
us  to  any  just  conclusion  ?     The  doctrines  depend 


20  REAL  OBJECTION  TO  CHRISTIANITY. 

Upon  the  miracles,  and  the  miracles  upon  the  doc- 
trines, what  end  is  there  of  this  ?  And  what  sup- 
ports them  both?  Or  is  not  this  the  same  as  the 
world  and  the  tortoise?  The  tortoise  supports 
the  world,  but  what  supports  the  tortoise?  No- 
thing." Thus  he  turned  the  argument  about  into 
different  shapes,  as  if  he  never  would  be  tired  of 
it;  and,  no  doubt,  if  he  had  been  surrounded  by 
his  gay  infidel  companions,  (but  the  house  of  sick- 
ness was  not  the  place  for  them,)  I  should  have 
been  laughed  to  scorn.  I  cast  a  glance  upon  Mr, 
and  Mrs.  Harrison;  they  had  put  down  their 
chocolate,  and  were  evidently  uneasy ;  they  pro- 
bably disliked  their  brother's  tone,  but  I  fancied, 
besides,  they  were  not  masters  of  the  question,  and 
thence  their  uneasiness. 

I  began  my  reply  with  saying,  "  Many  per- 
sons, have  been  deceived  by  that  view,  and  it 
does  at  first  sight  seem  a  perplexing  difficulty, 
but  it  is  soon  unravelled.  Divide  doctrines  into 
their  two  species,  and  the  thing  is  done.  Let  me 
ask  you,  does  not  the  gospel  contain  moral  rules, 
agreeable  to  our  reason,  and  discoverable  by  it, 
as  well  as  theological  -points,  some  of  which  are 
beyond  our  reason,  and  all  of  them  purely  matters 
of  revelation  ?" 

He  hesitated ;  so  I  said,  "  Take  an  example : 
•  Do  unto  others   as  you   would  wish  that  they 


REAL  OBJECTION  TO  CHRISTIANITY.  21 

should  do  unto  you^  Is  not  this  maxim  to  be 
found  in  the  gospel?" 

He  assented. 

•'  Did  we  stand  in  need  of  a  revelation  to  make 
this  known  to  us  ?" 

"  No,"  he  replied. 

"  Is  it  not  agreeable  to  our  reason  ?" 

He  allowed  it. 

"  Is  it  not  also  discoverable  by  our  reason,  and 
the  light  of  nature?" 

"  To  be  sure  it  is,"  he  answered ;  "  and  it  had 
been  discovered  long  before  the  gospel  mention- 
ed it?" 

"  Very  well  then,"  I  said,  "  we  will  call  if  you 
please,  all  doctrines  of  this  kind  moral  precepts ; 
or,  for  the  sake  of  brevity,  precepts  simply  " 

"  As  you  will,"  he  replied. 

"  Now,"  I  said,  "  take  an  example  of  another 
sort  of  doctrine.  '  I  and  my  Father  are  one.' 
This  is  in  the  gospel,  is  it  not  ?" 

He  granted  it. 

"  Could  we  have  known  it  without  revelation  ?" 

"  No,  certainly,"  he  answered. 

"  Is  it  agreeable  to  our  reason,  or  beyond  it?" 

"  Beyond  it,"  he  replied,  "most  unquestion- 
ably." 

"  Now  then,"  I  said,  "  for  all  the  doctrines  of 
this  kind,  which  are  very  numerous,  let  us  reserve 


22  REAL  OBJECTION  TO  CHRISTIANITY. 

the  term  doctrines,  and  appropriate  it  to  them 
alone.     Have  you  any  objection  ?" 

"  None  whatever,"  he  answered. 

*'  So  then,"  I  said,  "  we  have  now  agreed  to 
denominate  all  the  great  propositions  of  Scripture 
by  the  two  titles  of  precepts  and  doctrines,  and 
the  difference  between  them  is  manifested." 

*'  It  is  quite  so,"  he  replied. 

"  Observe  then,"  I  said.  "  When  it  is  asserted, 
that  the  doctrines  are  proved  by  the  miracles,  they 
mean  by  doctrines  what  we  have  this  instant 
agreed  to  call  doctrines  ;  namely,  the  pure  theolo- 
gical dogmata,  which  are  beyond  our  reason,  and 
discoverable  only  by  revelation ;  and  it  is  perfect- 
ly plain,  that,  unless  the  teacher  of  these  doctrines 
performed  miracles,  they  could  not  be  known  to 
be  of  divine  origin.  On  the  other  hand,  when  it 
is  asserted  that  the  miracles  are  proved  by  the 
doctrines,  by  doctrines  are  meant  precepts ;  name- 
ly, those  excellent  moral  rules  for  the  government 
of  human  life  which  our  reason  is  capable  of  dis- 
covering, which  human  reason  had  partly  discov- 
ered, and  which  the  most  exalted  reason  the  most 
approves.  Why  these  precepts  are  necessary  to 
prove  the  miracles  to  be  divine,  arises  from  the 
supposition  that  miracles,  true  or  false,  but  such  as 
to  deceive,  may  be  performed  by  wicked  beings. 
For  if  any  thing  contradictory  to  these  precepts  be 


REAL  OBJECTION  TO  CHRISTIANITY.  23 

taught  by  the  doer  of  the  miracles,  the  miracles 
are  detected  at  once.  As  our  Savior  said,  'the 
tree  is  known  by  its  fruits ;'  and  again,  •  if  Satan 
be  divided  against  himself,  how  shall  his  kingdom 
stand  V  Tell  me  then  what  the  precepts  are,  and 
I  will  tell  you  what  the  doer  of  the  miracle  is. 
Upon  the  whole,  therefore,  you  see,  there  is  no 
vicious  circle,  as  you  imagined.  This,  in  fact,  is 
the  order  in  which  the  transaction  may  be  suppos- 
ed to  proceed.  An  extraordinary  person  appears 
in  the  world,  in  the  most  learned  and  enlightened 
age  of  it ;  uneducated  himself,  he  preaches  a  sys- 
tem of  ethics,  so  pure,  so  sublime,  so  calculated  to 
promote  the  welfare  and  happiness  of  individuals, 
of  families,  and  of  nations,  that  all  the  accumulated 
reason  of  all  mankind  in  all  ages  had  not  attained 
to  any  thing  equal ;  the  same  person  performs 
mighty  miracles.  What  must  we  think  of  him  ?" 
"Why,  Sir,"  exclaimed  Mr.  Harrison  with 
warmth,  "  that  God  is  with  him  of  a  truth." 

"  Undoubtedly,"  I  said :  "  for  such  a  system 
overturns  the  devil's  kingdom,  and  therefore  the 
devil  cotlld  not  work  the  miracles  to  establish  that 
system.  But  mark  the  sequel.  This  extraordi- 
nary personage,  having  excited  your  admiration, 
and  won  your  love,  by  the  beauty  and  perfection 
of  his  heavenly  precepts ;  and  by  his  works,  hav- 
ing extorted  from  you  the  willing  confession  that 


24  REAL  OBJECTION  TO  CHRISTIANITY. 

his  authority  is  divine,  you  are  now  ripe  for  his 
doctrines ;  you  are  now  prepared  to  admit  what 
you  could  only  admit  on  divine  authority :  such  a 
teacher  cannot  lie;  whatever  he  says  is  truth 
itself,  and  issues  from  the  fountain  of  truth  :  though 
your  reason,  so  delighted  and  satisfied  before,  may 
now  be  perplexed  and  dazzled,  and  unable  to  cope 
with  the  mighty  difficulties  of  the  things  revealed; 
yet  you  must  submit  your  reluctant  faculties,  you 
must  bow  in  humble  silence,  or  you  must  break 
out  into  prayer,  and  say,  Lord,  I  believe,  help  thou 
mine  unbelief" 

Here  I  paused,  and  none  of  them  interrupted 
the  silence.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Harrison  had  their 
eyes  fixed  on  Mr.  Compton,  and  seemed  to  ex- 
pect that  he  should  declare  his  sentiments  ;  but  he 
uttered  not  a  word.  He  appeared  to  be  Avrapt  in 
thoughts  which  were  not  easy  to  him.  It  might 
be,  that  he  was  disturbed  by  the  breaking  up  of 
his  position,  and  by  the  consequent  approxima- 
tion towards  the  necessity  of  becoming  a  Chris- 
tian. But  he  was  not  a  penitent,  nor  weaned  yet 
from  the  vices  of  the  world ;  so  that  to  adopt 
Christianity  was  an  intolerable  idea.  He  feared 
it,  and,  therefore,  he  did  not  yet  desire  it. 

At  length,  having  had  time  to  reflect,  I  thought 
it  better  to  attempt  to  fill  up  the  parts  of  the  argu- 
ment, than  to  press  him  for  an  opinion  upon  it  in 


REAL  OBJECTION  TO  CHRISTIANITY.  25 

his  present  state :  I  resumed  my  discourse,  there- 
fore, nearly  as  follows : 

"  We  have  passed  on  so  rapidly,  that  we  have 
left  several  important  things  behinds  us.  The 
excellency  of  the  things  taught  decides  the  char- 
acter of  the  miracles,  as  we  have  already  shown ; 
but  then  there  is  a  reaction  of  the  miracles  upon 
the  things  taught,  and  we  now  perceive  them  to 
be  directly  sanctioned  by  the  great  God  of  heaven, 
and  we  acknowledge,  of  course,  that  they  must  be 
implicitly  obeyed.  Under  any  circumstances,  the 
gospel-precepts  would  be  pronounced  to  be  worthy 
of  God ;  but,  taking  them  in  the  abstract,  we  could 
not  know  whether  they  came  immediately  from 
him.  Being  things  discoverable  by  human  rea- 
son, we  could  not  tell  whether  they  might  not 
have  been  so  discovered,  whatever  might  be  their 
superior  excellence,  and  the  humbleness  of  their 
authors;  and,  therefore,  we  could  not  assign  to 
them  more  than  the  highest  human  authority; 
but,  the  preachers  of  them  performing  miracles, 
at  once  the  authority  becomes  divine.  For  a  test 
of  the  miracles,  it  is  enough  that  ihey  are  excellent, 
but  to  give  them  complete  authority  over  us,  it  is 
necessary  to  show  that  their  origin  is  divine ;  and 
this  is  done  by  the  miracles. 

"  Then  again,  with  respect  to  the  doctrines,  at 
least  a  great  portion  of  them,  there  is  a  reaction 
3 


26  REAL  OBJECTION  TO  CHRISTIANITY. 

there  also.  Take  this  as  an  example  of  what  I 
mean : — '  God  so  loved  the  world,  that  he  gave 
his  only  begotten  Son,  to  the  end  that  all  who  be- 
lieve in  him  should  not  perish,  but  have  everlast- 
ing life.'  This  is  one  of  the  doctrines  which  Ave 
could  never  have  known  but  by  revelation,  and 
even  when  revealed  to  us,  we  understand  very  little 
more  than  the  simple  proposition.  But  this  is  by 
no  means  a  dry,  speculative,  unoperative  proposi- 
tion;  and  what  is  most  striking  about  it,  is  the 
benevolence  of  it,  which  surpasses  all  human 
understanding.  We  can  only  receive  it,  indeed, 
and  believe  it  altogether,  on  the  authority  of  the 
miracles ;  but  the  clear,  benevolent  object  of  it 
may  be  taken  as  a  primary  test  of  the  miracles 
themselves.  What  a  picture  have  we  here  of 
God's  immense  goodness  and  mercy  towards  a 
fallen  part  of  his  creation,  that  he  spared  his  owji 
Son  from  his  bosom  to  redeem  and  save  it !  How 
gracious,  unspeakably  gracious,  to  make  faith  and 
trust  in  that  Savior  the  condition  of  rescuing  us 
from  eternal  death,  and  restoring  us  to  that  ever- 
lasting life,  which  we  had  forfeited  and  lost.  We 
are  absorbed  in  wonder  and  gratitude,  and  are 
disposed  to  exclaim  at  once,  this  is  divine ;  this 
proves  the  miracles  to  be  of  God. 

"  Now,  then,  put  the  whole  together.     A  man 
in  outward   appearance  preaches  most   excellent 


REAL  OBJECTION  TO  CHRISTIANITY.  27 

precepts  and  most  benevolent  doctrines ;  and  he 
performs  miracles,  which,  in  consequence,  we 
pronounce  divine.  But,  the  preacher's  divine 
commission  being  now  established,  we  revert  to 
the  same  precepts  and  doctrines,  and  pronounce 
them  divine  also.  This  is  the  short  summation 
of  the  argument ;  pray  tell  me,  now  sir,  whether, 
in  yoMY  judgment  of  it,  there  lies  any  objection  to  it. 
Is  the  reasoning  liable  to  the  charge  of  being  in  a 
circle,  or  paralogistic  ?  I  throw  myself  upon  your 
candor  and  ingenuousness  for  your  honest  opinion." 

"  Why,  then,  Dr.  Warton,"  he  said,  "  as  you 
press  me  so  closely,  I  must  confess,  that  you  have 
put  this  matter  in  a  light  w^hich  is  new  to  me, 
and,  perhaps,  the  true  one,  if  miracles  were  really 
performed.  But  all  this  is  outstripping  the  main 
question.  You  assume  those  miracles  through- 
out ;  whereas  1  denied  in  the  very  beginning  that 
any  evidence  could  prove  a  miracle.  Without 
doubt,  if  miracles  had  been  really  performed,  then 
they  might  have  been  applied  to  the  purposes 
which  you  mention,  of  showing  that  certain  pre- 
cepts had  God's  authority,  and  that  certain  doctrines 
were  true  doctrines,  and  to  be  believed  as  such." 

"  It  is  true,"  I  said,  "  we  have  not  attacked  that 
question  directly ;  but  we  have  acted  as  pioneers, 
and  have  cleared  away  the  approaches  to  it.  A 
miracle,  which  is  a  departure  from  the  established 


28  REAL  OBJECTION  TO  CHRISTIANITY. 

course  of  God's  government,  can  only  be  justified, 
even  according  to  my  notions,  by  a  most  worthy 
and  an  extraordinary  occasion ;  such  as  an  errand 
from  God  to  mankind  would  be.  I  ask  you,  could 
any  errand  be  known  to  be  from  God  without  a 
miracle  accompanying  it  ?" 

"  Yes,"  he  answered,  "  the  errand  itself  might 
show  it." 

"  Then,"  I  said,  "  if  any  errand  could  show  it, 
the  Christian  religion,  a  fortiori,  would  show  it ; 
for  never  was  so  noble  and  excellent  an  errand  as 
that.  But  we  have  settled  already,  that  the  Chris- 
tian precepts,  excellent  and  noble  as  they  may  be, 
could  not  show  it,  because  it  is  of  their  essence  to 
be  discoverable  by  human  reason ;  and  certainly 
the  doctrines  could  not  show  it ;  because,  although 
excellent  and  noble  too,  like  the  precepts,  and  well 
worthy  of  coming  from  God,  and  being  such  as 
can  only  come  by  revelation,  yet  still,  the  result 
of  experience  decides  the  matter  incontestably, 
that  it  is  difficult  to  persuade  multitudes  of  man- 
kind to  receive  them  as  divine,  even  with  the  help 
of  miracles;  so  much  are  many  of  them  above 
and  beyond  our  reason.  In  fact,  I  believe  it  is  to 
get  rid  of  these  doctrines,  that  persons  would 
get  rid  of  the  miracles  ;  which  is  a  tacit  confession 
that  only  miracles  could  prove  them." 

"  Now  how  is  any  message  to  be  shown  to  be 


REAL  OBJECTION  TO  CHRISTIANITY.  29 

from  God  1  When  God  wished  to  send  a  mes- 
sage to  the  Jews  by  Moses,  that  illustrious  messen- 
ger very  properly  demanded  a  miraculous  power 
for  his  credential;  for  he  argued  well,  that  with- 
out such  a  credential,  the  Jews  would  only  disre- 
gard, or  ridicule  his  pretensions,  however  gracious 
and  honorable  for  them  the  message  itself  might 
be.  Again,  when  God  sent  a  message  to  Gideon, 
to  order  him  to  do  something,  for  which  he 
thought  himself  unqualified  by  his  want  of  rank 
and  ability,  he  would  not  be  satisfied,  that  the 
message  really  came  from  God,  until  he  saw  a  mir- 
acle. And  this  agrees  with  the  common  sense  of 
mankind.  I  ask  you,  therefore,  once  more,  to 
point  out,  if  you  can,  any  other  method  of  discri- 
minating God's  ambassador  than  by  a  miracle." 

Mr.  Compton  appearing  to  be  reluctant  to  com- 
mit himself,  Mr.  Harrison  answered  for  him,  that 
there  was  no  other  way  imaginable ;  and  that  it 
was  all  in  vain  to  talk,  or  think  of  any  expedient, 
with  the  view  of  getting  rid  of  miracles.  "  The 
case,"  he  said,  "  is  too  manifest  to  admit  of  debate, 
or  doubt." 

Mr.  Compton  here  suggested  what  was  ex- 
tremely absurd  for  a  man  of  his  principles  ;  name- 
ly, that  the  messenger  might  be  described  before- 
hand, and,  consequently,  known  when  he  came, 
by  his  correspondence  to  the  description. 


30  REAL  OBJECTION  TO  CHRISTIANITY. 

"  This  previous  description  would  be  a  pro- 
phecy, would  it  not?"     I  asked. 

"  It  certainly  would,"  he  replied. 

"  Then  you  allow,"  I  asked  again,  "  do  you. 
Sir,  such  things  as  prophecies?" 

"  No  indeed,"  he  exclaimed,  aware  of  the  net  in 
which  he  had  incautiously  entangled  himself,  "  I 
allow  nothing.  I  must  have  every  thing  proved 
legitimately.  I  have  only  stated  a  supposition 
now  for  the  sake  of  discussing  it." 

This  discouraged  me ;  but  I  proceeded  to  in- 
quire, whether  he  considered  a  prophecy  to  be  ac- 
cording to  the  course  of  nature,  or  within  the 
sphere  of  human  ability. 

"  No,"  he  answered,  "  I  do  not.  For  though 
some  men  have  a  wonderful  talent  of  foreseeing 
events  at  a  distance,  yet  it  can  never  be  reckoned, 
generally,  a  human  talent." 

"  Then  a  prophecy,"  I  said,  "  is  a  species  of 
miracle,  is  it  not  ?" 

"  Why,  to  be  sure,"  he  replied,  "you  may  call 
it  so,  if  you  please." 

"  Oh !"  I  rejoined,  "  it  matters  not  what  you  or 
I  may  be  pleased  to  call  it.  A  prophecy  is  a  real 
miracle,  in  the  true  sense  of  the  term ;  it  is  out  of 
the  course  of  nature,  and  the  power  of  man.  And 
more  especially  to  prefigure  a  person,  who  is  to 
appear  at  a  remote  period,  so  exactly,  as  that  he 


REAL  OBJECTION   OF  CHRISTIANITY.  31 

may  be  known  at  once  when  he  does  appear, 
seems  to  be  one  of  the  greatest  of  miracles.  We, 
therefore,  still  want  a  criterion." 

"  Well,"  said  he,  "  you  have  allowed.  Dr.  War- 
ton,  that  errands  and  miracles  go  both  together ; 
and  that  either  of  them  without  the  other  is  not 
credible,  or  not  supposable.  Take  away  the  er- 
rand, therefore,  and  the  miracle  falls  to  the  ground 
of  itself,  being  left  without  any  support.  And,  I 
am  sure,  it  appears  to  me  one  of  the  most  unlikely 
things  in  the  world,  that  God  should  trouble  him- 
self, or  condescend  so  far,  as  to  send  any  messages 
to  us.  We  are  not  of  consequence  enough  in  the 
creation.  This  earth  is  but  a  molehill,  and  loe 
ants  upon  it,  in  comparison  with  the  infinite  extent 
of  God's  whole  dominion." 

Thus,  then,  after  a  long  conflict,  a  new  battle 
was  to  be  fought,  which  might  last  equally  long, 
and  terminate  with  equal  apparent  unsuccess.  But 
it  behoved  me  not  to  shrink ;  so,  after  a  short 
pause : — "  Your  account  of  man,  at  all  events,"  I 
said,  "  is  very  different  from  the  scriptural  account. 
Judge,  when  you  have  heard  the  latter,  which  is 
the  noblest,  and  the  most  accurate,  and  the  most  de- 
sirable to  embrace.  When  the  great  Creator  had 
finished  the  rest  of  his  works,  wanting  another 
creature  to  rule  them  all,  and,  as  their  Priest,  to 
adore  him  in  their  name,  he  said,  '  Let  us  make 


32  REAL  OBJECTION  TO  CHRISTIANITY. 

man  in  our  own  image  after  our  likeness.'  In 
the  creation  of  other  things,  all  is  done  with  the 
tone  of  command,  or  with  a  mere  volition.  '  Let 
there  be  light ;  let  there  be  a  firmament ;  let  the 
earth  bring  forth  so  and  so.'  But  when  man  is  to 
be  made — a  creature  who  is  to  be  endued  with 
reason  and  intelligence — the  very  image  of  the 
Maker, — he  used  an  expression  which  indicates 
deliberation  and  counsel;  of  whom,  as  well  as  of 
himself,  man  was  to  be  both  the  workmanship  and 
the  resemblance.  By  the  mode,  too,  in  which 
the  body  is  related  to  have  been  formed,  there  is 
a  striking  mark  of  the  pre-eminence  of  man.  To 
mould  the  human  body,  the  divine  workman,  it 
should  seem,  takes  the  clay  himself  He  applies, 
we  are  told,  his  own  hands  to  the  senseless  mat- 
ter ;  and  there  grows  up  under  them  a  form  of  ex- 
quisite, surpassing  beauty ;  a  wonderful  specimen 
of  what  omniscience  can  plan,  and  omnipotence 
execute.  But  the  production  of  the  soul  is  still 
more  astonishing  ;  he  derives  it  not  from  the  most 
subtil  material  substances — he  breathes  it  from 
on  high ;  the  soul  is  a  particle  of  his  own  spirit- 
ual essence — a  spark  of  his  own  ethereal  flame, 
unextinguishable  for  ever.  It  is  the  soul,  there- 
fore, which  reflects  chiefly  the  bright  image  of 
the  Maker — immaterial,  immortal — possessing 
within  herself  the  faculty  of  self-agency;  gifted 


REAL  OBJECTION   TO  CHRISTIANITY.  33 

with  the  noble  powers  of  thinking,  of  reasoning, 
of  willing ;  the  subject  of  moral  responsibility — 
capable  of  righteousness  and  holiness  in  this  tran- 
sient world,  and  of  aspiring  beyond  it  to  a  state  of 
everlasting  permanency  and  perfection  in  her  na- 
tive heavens.  All  the  matter  in  all  the  millions 
of  suns  and  tens  of  millions  of  worlds  which  re- 
volve about  them — whatever  beauty,  whatever 
magnificence  God  has  conferred  upon  it,  is  not 
equal  to  one  single  particle  of  mind.  Such  is  the 
soul, — and  thus  were  soul  and  body  created ;  and 
all  the  subsequent  accounts  of  Scripture  show,  that 
God  has  never  withdrawn  his  care  from  any  of 
the  works  of  his  own  hands ;  that  he  superintends 
them  by  a  vigilant,  incessant  providence;  that 
every  soul  of  man,  more  especially,  is  infinitely 
precious  in  his  sight ;  and  that  his  will  is,  that 
not  one  of  them  should  perish.  Hence,  therefore, 
message  after  message  to  mankind — messages  of 
love,  of  instruction,  of  warnings,  of  threatenings, 
of  promises,  of  pardon,  of  reconciliation,  of  grace 
here,  of  glory  hereafter.  Thus  speaks  the  Bible ; 
and  does  not  every  heart  beat  responsive  to  this 
gladsome  history?  Where  is  the  man  who,  so 
far  from  being  refreshed  and  renovated,  in  his  pil- 
grimage through  life,  by  drinking  deeply  of  the 
streams  of  this  divine  knowledge,  would  rather 
plunge  blindfold  into  the  dark,  disconsolate  system 


34  REAL  OBJECTION  TO  CHRISTIANITY. 

of  conflicting  atoms — of  a  God,  too  inert  and  in- 
dolent, too  fond  of  ease  and  repose,  too  mucli  wrapt 
up  in  the  silent,  abstracted  contemplation  of  him- 
self and  his  own  essence  and  pleasures,  to  create 
worlds,  or  to  govern  them?  How  different  the 
God  of  the  Bible,  by  whom  every  hair  of  our 
heads  is  numbered,  and  without  whose  knowledge 
and  will,  not  a  sparrow  falleth  to  the  ground? 
But,  it  must  disturb  him,  you  think — ^this  omnipre- 
sent, omniscient,  omnipotent  Being — it  must  dis- 
turb him,  and  distract  him,  and  overwhelm  him,  to 
bear  so  vast  a  load — to  regulate  so  prodigious  a 
multiplicity  of  things.  Have  you  considered  how 
much  those  infinite  perfections  infer  ?  They  con- 
fute the  narrow  notion  of  a  God  faint  and  weary 
with  the  burden  of  affairs.  You  are  finite,  and 
your  works  are  in  the  proportion  of  finite  to  finite ; 
but  in  the  works  of  God  the  proportion  is  of  infi- 
nite to  infinite.  Yes,  you  may  still  say,  but  it  is 
all  below  his  dignity.  Not  so  thought  the  sub- 
limest  genius  amongst  men,  who  sung  of  God 
after  another  sort.  '  He  giveth  food  to  the  young 
ravens  which  cry;  he  openeth  his  hand,  and  fill- 
eth  all  things  living  with  plenteousness.'  There 
is  an  argument,  however,  which  is  short,  and  ir- 
resistible. If  it  was  not  below  his  dignity  to 
create,  it  is  not  below  it  to  preserve  and  govern 
his  creation." 


REAL  OBJECTION  TO   CHRISTIANITY.  35 

Thus  I  went  on,  and  could  have  gone  on  for 
ever,  borne  along  by  the  prolific  magnificence  of 
the  topic;  but  still  more,  by  a  feeling  of  indigna- 
tion, that  men,  who  are  taught,  and  encouraged, 
and  imvardly  urged  to  look  so  high,  should  vol- 
untarily debase  themselves  and  their  condition  so 
low,  as  if  they  would  be  prone  and  grovelling, 
like  the  brute.     After  I  had  paused,  my  mind  still 
swelled  with  the  idea ;  and  a  minute  or  two  elaps- 
ed, before  I  was  aware  that  nobody  was  preparing 
to  answer  me.     Mr.  and  Mrs.  Harrison  told  me  in 
private,  afterwards,  that  they  were  silent,  lest  they 
might  Aveaken  xvhat  I  had  said.     Mr.  Compton  I 
could  not  fathom.     He  was  capable,  indeed,  of  ad- 
miring lofty  notions,  because  of  his  liberal  educa- 
tion ;  and  I  fancied,  once  or  twice,  that  I  saw  a 
beam  of  light  irradiating  his  care-worn  counte- 
nance, and  I  almost  expected  him  to  exclaim,  I 
yield;  but  sin  yet  weighed  him  down;  and,  as 
he  might  fear,  that,  if  the  gospel  were  true,  its 
punishments  and  not  its  rewards  awaited  him,  he, 
perhaps  in  his  secret  thoughts,  preferred  annihi- 
lation. 

However,  at  length,  to  bring  him  to  somethino- 
more  decisive,  L  said,  -  Your  objection  as  to  the 
trouble  and  condescension  of  the  Deity  in  favor 
of  man,  and  your  ideas  of  the  insignificance  of 
man  himself,  are,  I  trust,  materially  weakened,  if 


36  REAL  OBJECTION  TO  CHRISTIANITY. 

not  entirely  removed.  It  is  true  my  answer  has 
been  derived  chiefly  from  Scripture,  but  at  all 
events  it  must  be  allowed,  with  respect  to  man, 
that  on  this  globe  there  is  no  other  creature  in  any 
way  to  be  compared  with  him,  or  so  worthy  of 
the  care  of  Providence.  It  must  be  allowed, 
moreover,  that  this  globe  itself  is  an  important 
constituent  portion  of  one  great  solar  system, 
which  embraces  many  millions  of  miles  in  the  re- 
gions of  space ;  and  that,  if  there  were  thousands 
or  millions  of  such  systems,  or  much  larger  ones, 
yet  it  is  quite  incredible  that  any  one  of  them 
should  be  neglected  by  its  Supreme  Maker :  when 
in  the  construction,  and  movements,  and  all  the 
circumstances  of  them  there  is  displayed,  without 
doubt,  as  in  ours,  an  astonishing  skill  of  mecha- 
nics and  geometry ;  striking  marks,  innumerable, 
of  contrivance  and  design,  and  of  final  causes ; 
and  a  beauty,  magnificence,  order,  and  harmony 
of  the  parts,  and  of  the  whole,  which  bespeak 
the  divine  workman.  If  one  such  system  were 
blotted  at  once  out  of  the  Universe,  we  might 
fancy  that  it  would  not  be  missed,  and  that  no  gap 
would  be  visible  in  the  creation.  But  if  one  might 
be  blotted  out  in  this  manner,  and  God  not  regard 
the  loss,  as  being  insignificant  when  compared 
with  the  remainder,  then  another  and  another 
maybe  blotted  out  with  the  same  result ;  and  I  do 


REAL  OBJECTION   TO  CHRISTIANITY.  37 

not  see  where  this  will  end,  but  in  proving  too 
much :  namely,  that  God  cares  for  none  of  these 
many  systems,  and  not  merely  that  he  does  not 
care  for  one  or  two  out  of  the  many.  But,  I  pre- 
sume, you  will  not  go  this  length ;  and  therefore 
we  must  of  necessity  conclude  that  our  own  solar 
system  is  under  his  immediate,  superintending  pro- 
vidence, and,  consequently,  every  world  also  which 
is  a  part  of  that  system — and,  above  all,  what  is 
most  valuable  in  each  world.  And  here,  as  we 
have  said,  in  this  planet  of  ours,  man  is  the  most 
valuable  creature,  for  whose  habitation  and  use,  in 
in  fact,  the  planet  itself  was  apparently  made.  Or 
do  you  think  that  God  has  placed  more  valuable 
creatures  than  men  in  the  other  planets,  towards 
whom  he  exercises  a  due  and  constant  regard; 
and  that  this  earth,  although  inhabited  and  pos- 
sessed by  so  excellent  a  creature  as  man  must  be 
confessed  to  be,  is  still  but  a  sort  of  moon  to  those 
other  planets,  or  a  mere  counterpoise,  to  regulate 
their  velocities,  and  to  keep  them  in  their  appoint- 
ed stations,  and  at  their  proper  distances  from  the 
sun,  and  from  each  other  ?" 

The  absurdity  of  this  supposition  drew  forth 
from  my  antagonist  the  only  observation  which 
he  had  hazarded  for  a  long  time.  Amongst  his 
own  set,  where  there  was  no  restraint,  no  neces- 
sity for  deliberation,  no  fear  of  being  convicted  of 
4 


38  REAL  OBJECTION  TO  CHRISTIANITY. 

ignorance,  he  was  quick,  I  believe,  in  rapartee, 
and  by  a  smart  sally  of  wit  he  would  turn  the 
laugh  upon  an  opponent ;  but  such  a  talent  was 
useless  here.  He  had  tried  it  indeed,  and  it  had 
failed.  The  respect  which  even  the  profligate  feel 
for  the  sacredness  of  the  clergyman's  character; 
the  charitable  and  wholly  disinterested  purpose  for 
which  I  came  to  him ;  the  gravity  and  solemnity 
of  my  manner  at  particular  moments ;  the  superior 
information  which  I  possessed  upon  the  subjects 
of  our  discussion ;  all  these  together  produced  a 
sort  of  awe  and  fear  in  him,  lest  he  should  either 
oflfend  me  or  expose  himself  He  was  therefore 
becoming  very  cautious,  and  in  consequence  he 
was  often  entirely  mute.  Here,  however,  he  inter- 
posed, and  allowed,  that  it  would  be  a  sad  clumsy 
contrivance  to  make  one  world  for  the  sake  of 
lightening  and  balancing  other  worlds.  To  do  so 
would  be  somewhat  similar  to  what  they  tell  us  of 
the  spleen  in  the  human  body,  that  it  was  only  put 
there  to  pack  up  the  space  tight  and  clever. 
•'  But  after  all,"  he  said,  "  I  do  not  see  why  we 
may  not  consider  the  divine  architect  just  the  same 
as  any  human  architect.  The  watchmaker,  for  in- 
stance, constructs  a  watch  with  wonderful  skill  and 
pains,  and  delivers  it  out  of  his  hands  when  finish- 
ed, and  troubles  himself  no  more  about  it.  What 
is  a  world  to  God  but  as  a  watch  to  a  watchmaker?" 


REAL  OBJECTION  TO  CHRISTIANITY.  39 

"What  object,"  I  inquired,  "has  the  watch* 
maker  in  view  when  he  makes  a  watch  ?" 

"  To  maintain  himself,  I  have  no  doubt,"  was 
his  answer. 

"  Most  likely,"  I  said,  "  and  therefore  of  course 
he  does  not  care  what  becomes  of  it,  Avhen  he  has 
exchanged  it  for  the  things  which  he  wants;  for 
clothing,  food,  and  lodging.  Has  God  any  wants 
of  this  kind,  or  of  any  other  kind  ?" 

"  None  whatever,"  he  replied ;  "  it  would  be 
absurd  to  think  so." 

"  It  would  indeed,"  I  said.  "  But  still  he 
must  have  some  object  in  making  worlds,  must 
he  not?  Does  he  make  them,  do  you  suppose, 
as  children  blow  soap  bubbles,  to  try  their  own 
dexterity;  to  gaze  at  them  mounting  into  the  air; 
to  admire,  for  an  instant,  the  pretty  colors  which 
they  reflect,  and  then  to  laugh  and  exult  when 
they  burst  and  disappear?" 

"  I  allow,"  he  answered,  "  that  he  must  have 
some  object,  and  a  worthier  object  than  this ;  but 
what  it  may  be  I  cannot  conjecture." 

"  I  will  tell  you  then,"  I  said.  "  It  is  his  de- 
sire of  exercising  his  great  attributes  for  the  pur- 
pose of  communicating  pleasure  and  happiness. 
If  he  were  the  only  being,  as  he  is  the  greatest, 
he  would  still  be  infinitely  happy  in  himself. 
But   this   solitary  grandeur   and   self-sufliciency 


40  REAL  OBJECTION   TO  CHRISTIANITY. 

limit,  or  even  supersede,  the  very  energies  which 
may  well  be  supposed  to  constitute  his  happiness. 
Simply  to  be — wonderful  as  is  the  mode  of  his  ex- 
istence ;  necessary,  that  is,  and  underived,  from  all 
eternity — simply  to  be,  even  after  this  unspeakable 
mode,  can  never  be  all.  Infinite  goodness  ?nust  and 
will  diffuse  itself  around  through  infinite  space ; 
infinite  wisdom  will  never  cease  to  plan,  nor  infinite 
power  to  create,  recipients  of  infinite  love.  Thus 
worlds  arise,  by  the  eternal  fiat,  replenished  with 
creatures  capable  of  their  suitable  enjoyments,  and 
some  amongst  the  rest  capable  also  of  a  moral 
government ;  and  it  is  evident  that  in  the  govern- 
ment of  these  chiefly  will  the  great  glory  of  so 
incomparable  a  being  be,  first  and  last,  most  illus- 
triously displayed.  Every  flower  that  sips  the 
dew  of  heaven  seems  to  lift  up  its  head  to  heaven 
in  token  of  gratitude  and  praise ;  every  living 
creature  that  creeps  upon  the  earth,  or  wings  the 
air,  or  swims  through  the  w^orld  of  waters,  by 
their  sportive  joy  attest  the  sense  of  their  Creator's 
bounty.  But  this  is  mere  poetry,  you  will  say  ; 
it  is  the  rational  creature  only  who  is  able  to  give 
an  actual  utterance  to  the  sentiments  of  the  whole 
creation ;  he  alone,  in  this  vast  temple  of  the  uni- 
verse, can  actually  worship  the  God  of  it ;  he 
alone,  indeed,  has  faculties,  by  which  he  may  as- 
cend  to   the   knowledge  of  him,  appreciate   his 


REAL  OBJECTION  TO  CHRISTIANITY.  41 

manifold  works  of  mercy,  and  above  all,  by  obedi- 
ence to  his  will,  of  his  own  free  choice,  and  by  no 
compulsory  law  of  his  nature,  glorify  him  with 
his  proper  glory.  But  now,  observe,  we  are  re- 
turned to  the  point  from  which  we  set  out.  The 
whole  of  the  divine  will  we  can  only  ascertain  by  a 
revelation ;  and  as  God's  chief  glory  arises  from 
our  conformity  to  that  will,  a  revelation  is  a  priori 
a  most  probable  event,  and  consequently  miracles 
are  probable  also,  by  which  alone  the  revelation 
can  be  proved.  But  this  may  be  put  in  a  stronger 
light.  Suppose  the  rational  creature,  by  the  abuse 
of  his  noble  but  dangerous  privilege  of  free  will, 
to  have  transgressed  the  boundaries  originally 
assigned  to  him,  and  thus  to  have  fallen  under  the 
just  displeasure  of  his  Maker — how  is  he  to  re- 
cover his  lost  estate?  How  is  he  to  know,  indeed, 
whether  it  be  recoverable  or  not?  O  what  a 
worthy  cause  have  we  here  for  a  revelation  of 
love  and  mercy,  and  therefore  for  miracles  to 
attest  its  truth,  to  raise  the  drooping  spirit  of  the 
wretched,  fallen  being,  and  to  assure  him  of  his 
reconciliation  to  his  God  !" 

As  the  time  had  now  arrived  when  it  was 
necessary  for  me  to  leave  my  sick  friend,  I  rose 
from  my  seat  and  said,  "  I  shall  be  happy,  Mr. 
Compton,  to  see  you  again.  A  great  deal  has 
passed  between  us,  in  this  hasty  discussion,  which 


42  REAL  OBJECTION  TO  CHRISTIANITY. 

deserves,  and  may  require,  maturer  reflection. 
Think  it  over,  I  earnestly  entreat  you,  in  the  calm 
solitude  of  your  own  breast.  Trace  out  the  several 
steps  of  the  argument  through  which  we  have 
travelled,  and  examine  the  ground  on  which  we 
have  trodden.  If  you  discover  a  false  step,  or 
what  may  appear  to  you  to  be  so,  point  it  out  to 
me  when  we  next  meet,  and  we  will  re-examine 
it  together."  Then,  having  said  this,  before  they 
were  well  aware,  and  with  a  view  to  escape  the 
trouble  and  delay  of  ceremony,  I  took  up  my 
hat  and  cane,  and  was  out  of  the  room  in  a  mo- 
ment. I  was  really  in  a  hurry ;  but  I  feel  some- 
times after  conversations  of  this  kind,  as  when  I 
descend  from  the  pulpit,  that  the  small  talk  of 
common  life  is  a  sad  falling  off,  and  an  intolera- 
ble frivolity. 

My  going  away,  however,  so  hastily,  procured 
me  a  visit  the  next  day  from  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Har- 
rison, who  complimented  me  upon  my  eloquence, 
as  they  were  pleased  to  call  it,  and  upon  the  irre- 
sistible force  oi  argument  with  which  I  had  main- 
tained the  claims  of  revelation  ;  and  they  told  me, 
that  they  did  not  know  how  to  thank  me  suffi- 
ciently for  the  great  exertions  which  I  had  made 
to  convince  him,  and  for  the  cool  temper  and  un- 
wearied patience  with  which  I  had  followed  up 
the  shifting  current  of  the  discussion,  and  had  met 


REAL  OBJECTION  TO  CHRISTIANITY.  43 

him  perpetually  on  his  own  new-chosen  ground. 
But,  what  was  of  more  consequence,  they  inform- 
ed me,  that  they  were  commissioned  by  Mr.  Comp- 
ton  himself  to  apologize  to  me  for  any  apparent 
want  of  civility  in  his  conduct  towards  me,  and  to 
charge  it  upon  the  deplorable  state  of  his  health, 
which  often  tormented  his  body  wdth  pain,  and 
disturbed  his  mind  with  care.  To  this  they  added, 
that,  if  the  following  day  was  fine,  he  intended  to 
try  a  longer  airing  than  usual,  and  invited  me  to 
accompany  him,  with  the  express  view  of  renew- 
ing the  conversation. 

"  But  what  hope?"  I  inquired  eagerly.  "This 
invitation  seems  a  favorable  omen ;  it  bespeaks  a 
willingness  to  hear,  at  least,  which  God  perchance 
may  bless.  Has  any  progress  meanwhile  been 
made?" 

"  Believe  me.  Sir,"  said  Mrs.  Harrison,  "  this 
itself  is  no  little  progress ;  but  much  more,  I  trust, 
has  been  done.  I  was  left  alone  with  my  brother 
when  you  went  from  us  yesterday,  Mr.  Harrison 
having  folio V7ed  you,  though  without  overtaking 
you,  to  the  door.  After  a  moment's  pause,  'This 
Dr.  Warton,'  he  exclaimed  suddenly,  '  is  an  expert 
man  at  his  weapons,  and  pins  me  down  so  tightly 
that  I  cannot  get  loose.  I  shall  be  frightened 
when  he  begins  those  plausible  questions  again, 
which  I  no  sooner  answered,  than  I  found  myself 


44  REAL  OBJECTION  TO  CHRISTIANITY. 

caught,  and  condemned  out  of  my  own  mouth. 
But  he  was  equally  terrible  to  me  when  he  spread 
his  sails,  and  took  a  wider  rangfe ;  for  thoug-h  I 
had  only  to  listen,  and  might  have  listened  with 
delight  if  I  had  been  an  unconcerned  auditor,  yet 
feeling  myself  to  be  a  principal  character  in  the 
drama,  and  one  very  deeply  interested,  and  repre- 
sented, too,  throughout,  in  a  degraded  light,  and 
borne  down  by  a  torrent,  these  cushions,  I  assure 
you,  were  never  so  uneasy  to  me  before.  He  had 
greatly  the  advantage  over  me,  my  dear  Charlotte, 
had  he  not?'     'Yes,  indeed,  brother,'  I  answered, 

*  he  had  certainly ;  but  it  was  no  discredit  to  your 
talents,  for  in  my  opinion  the  cause  which  you 
endeavor  to  maintain  cannot  be  maintained  by 
any  talents.  It  is  too  unworthy  both  of  God  and 
of  man.'  '  Well,  Charlotte,  leave  me  till  dinner- 
time to  myself  I  will  for  once  at  least  attend  to 
his  advice,  and  retrace  the  course  of  the  argu- 
ment, that  I  may  see  whether  I  granted  any  thing 
which  I  ought  to  have  denied,  and  the  concession 
of  which  paved  way  for  his    apparent  victory.' 

•  Do,  my  dear  brother,'  I  replied,  '  and  be  sure  to 
take  care  that  you  are  impartial,  and  search  for 
truth — for  truth  alone,  and  not  for  the  triumph  of 
any  set  of  opinions.'  The  remainder  of  my  story 
is  short.  He  summoned  me  to  his  bed-chamber 
this  morning,  and,  after  saying  that  he  had  been 


REAL  OBJECTION  TO  CHRISTIANITY.  45 

thinking  deeply  and  incessantly  upon  all  the  topics 
that  arose  in  the  discussion  between  himself  and 
you,  he  dictated  the  message  which  I  have  just 
delivered." 

"  Very  well,"  I  said,  "  I  shall  be  at  his  service, 
and  may  God  prosper  the  event."  In  this  prayer 
they  joined  fervently,  and  so  quitted  the  rectory. 

The  next  morning-  was  propitious  to  the  plan 
of  the  extended  drive,  though  not  warm  enough  to 
admit  of  the  carriage  been  thrown  open.  If  this, 
indeed,  had  been  done,  we  might  have  enjoyed  the 
prospects  better,  but  I  do  not  see  exactly  how  we 
could  have  conversed  with  due  freedom,  (especial- 
ly as,  when  heated,  I  spoke  sometimes  in  an  ele- 
vated key,)  without  making  the  coachman  and 
footman  a  party  in  the  discussion.  Mrs.  Harri- 
son alone  was  with  us ;  for,  Mr.  Compton  being 
so  placed  as  to  occupy  one  side  of  the  carriage 
himself,  there  was  room  for  two  only  on  the  other 
side,  and  it  was  his  particular  wish  to  have  his 
sister  with  him.  He  considered  his  health  upon 
the  whole  a  little  improved,  and  with  that  idea  his 
spirits  had  risen  in  proportion ;  but  I  understood 
it  to  be  the  opinion  of  the  medical  men  that  his 
recovery  was  not  to  be  expected ;  that  he  might 
linger  for  two  or  three  months,  or  that  his  death 
might  be  soon  and  sudden.  He  had  not  the  most 
distant  notion  himself  that  there  was  a  limit  fixed 


46  REAL  OBJECTION  TO  CHRISTIANITY. 

for  him,  so  very  short  at  the  longest ;  when  his 
disorder  was  violent,  he  was  immediately  depress- 
ed and  thought  he  should  die,  but  a  better  night, 
and  a  little  freedom  from  pain,  removed  the  trouble- 
some impression,  and  revived  the  hopes  of  life. 

Upon  being  clear  of  the  houses  and  the  pave- 
ment, when  the  usual  things,  about  his  health,  the 
weather,  and  the  intended  ride,  had  been  said,  Mr. 
Compton  remarked,  that  "  the  conclusion,  at  which 
we  appeared,  in  our  late  discussion,  to  have  arrived, 
depended  upon  a  premise  rather  assumed  than 
established.  Miracles  pre -supposed  an  errand 
from  God  to  man ;  but  the  object  of  a  divine  errand 
must  be  to  declare  the  divine  will.  Now,  if  the 
divine  will  be  discoverable  by  man  himself,  by  a 
due  use  of  his  own  reason,  there  will  be  no  neces- 
sity of  a  special  errand."  "  No,"  I  said ;  "  but  you 
must  recollect,  that  precepts  only,  and  not  doctrines, 
are  within  the  scope  of  human  discovery.  Grant- 
ing, therefore,  that  all  the  most  excellent  precepts, 
as  we  have  them  in  the  gospel,  were  actually 
discovered,  and  sufficiently  made  known  to  man- 
kind, and  universally  acknowledged  for  the  rule 
of  life,  all  which  is  necessary  besides  the  disco- 
very, yet  bow  are  we  to  know  the  doctrines,  which 
are  not  so  discoverable,  and  which  moreover  it 
may  be  highly  expedient  or  even  necessary  for  us 
to  know  ?     In  fact,  these  doctrines,  we  may  well 


REAL  OBJECTION   TO   CHRISTIANITY.  47 

imagine,  are  the  very  occasion  of  God's  errand. 
Do  you  think  that  God  would  send  a  message  to 
us,  and  disturb  the  course  of  nature  to  bear  witness 
to  it,  merely  to  tell  us  what  we  know,  or  might 
have  known  already?" 

Here  I  paused  for  an  answer,  but  Mr.  Compton 
declined  to  give  any,  and  said,  "  I  am  much 
obliged  to  you,  Dr.  Warton,  for  talking  with  me  ; 
but  I  must  request  of  you  not  to  pursue  that  sys- 
tem of  questions  upon  questions.  My  health  is 
not  equal  to  the  fatigue  and  anxiety  of  it ;  and  I 
find  myself  sometimes  entrapped  by  it  unawares 
into  concessions,  of  which  I  afterwards  repent.  I 
like  best  to  hear  you  speak  continuously,  and  to 
be  enabled  to  view  the  whole  argument  at  once." 

"  Well,"  I  replied,  "  I  will  cheerfully  pursue 
that  course,  if  you  wish  it,  but  I  must  once  trouble 
you  so  far  as  to  ask  you,  whether  truth  be  not  the 
great  object  of  our  investigation,  and  such  truth  as 
is  of  unspeakable  moment?" 

"  It  is  certainly,"  he  answered. 

"  And  does  not  every  argument,"  I  asked  again, 
"  consist  of  three  propositions  at  least,  when  fully 
drawn  out ;  namely,  the  two  premises  and  the  con- 
clusion?" He  allowed  it. 

"  If,  then,"  I  said,  "  I  put  the  first  premise  to  you 
in  the  form  of  a  question,  and  you  consent  to  it  with 
your  own  mouth,  and  the  second  premise  also  be 


48  REAL  OBJECTION  TO  CHRISTIANITY. 

put  and  granted  in  a  similar  manner,  can  you 
have  a  more  compendious  or  a  more  decisive  and 
indisputable  mode  of  arriving  at  self  conviction 
with  respect  to  the  conclusion,  which  is,  perhaps, 
the  very  truth  after  which  we  are  searching,  and 
which  we  agree  in  considering  of  extreme  im- 
portance?" 

"  It  may  be  the  shortest  mode,"  he  replied, "  and 
when  a  man  has  allowed  the  premises,  he  cannot 
easily,  or  with  a  good  face,  dispute  the  legitimate 
conclusion ;  but  it  would  be  more  agreeable  to  me 
to  know  the  whole  journey  which  it  is  proposed 
to  me  to  travel,  before  I  take  a  single  step.  In 
short,  I  would  not  willingly  take  a  single  step, 
without  knowing  where  it  would  place  me,  and 
what  would  be  the  second  and  the  third  step,  and, 
above  all,  the  last.  As  I  said  before,  any  other 
mode  is  too  fatiguing  and  too  anxious  for  me." 

"  Which  is  easiest,"  I  inquired,  "  to  consider 
one  insulated,  unconnected  proposition,  or  a  chain 
of  propositions  consisting  of  many  links'?"  He 
hesitated ;  but  he  was  compelled  to  confess,  that 
the  single  proposition  was  the  easiest  to  consider. 

"  Again,"  I  inquired,  "as  to  the  man  who  is  in 
search  of  truth,  is  he  alarmed  about  any  of  the 
steps  which  may  conduct  him  towards  it,  being 
so  excellent  a  thing,  and  the  very  thing  which  he 
wants  to  find?" 


REAL  OBJECTION  TO  CHRISTIANITY.  49 

He  was  touched  to  the  quick,  and  instead  of 
answering,  he  exclaimed,  "  Oh,  Dr.  Warton,  you 
are  doing  at  this  moment  what  I  particularly  de- 
precated." 

"  Yes,  yes,"  I  said,  smiling ;  "  these  prelimina- 
ries must  needs  be  settled  in  this  very  manner,  and 
then  we  may  afterwards  consider, whether  the  same 
or  any  other  mode  shall  be  adopted,  in  the  great  de- 
bate which  is  to  follow.  Suppose,  therefore,  for  a 
moment,  a  person  having  a  monstrous  unaccounta- 
ble antipathy  to  the  mathematical  truth,  respecting 
the  two  lines,  that  continually  approach  and  never 
meet ;  what  would  be  his  conduct  ?  When  any 
simpler  proposition,  in  the  road  to  the  more  diffi- 
cult one,  which  he  holds  in  abhorrence,  was  pro- 
posed to  him,  would  he  not  fatigue  and  rack  his 
brain  with  thinking  how  that  simpler  proposition 
might  bear  upon  the  other,  and  torment  himself 
with  anxiety,  lest,  by  allowing  it,  he  might  imper- 
ceptibly be  committed  to  the  allowing  of  the  abom- 
inable one  ?  Whereas,  if  he  were  simply  a  learner 
of  mathematical  truths,  without  any  prejudice 
against  any  particular  proposition,  he  would  follow, 
not  only  fearlessly,  but  also  joyfully,  wherever  he 
might  be  led,  from  truth  to  truth,  and  refreshed 
and  recruited  by  every  new  discovery.  Is  not 
this  so  ?" 

It  was  impossible  for  him  to  deny  it. 
6 


50  REAL  OBJECTION  TO  CHRISTIANITY. 

*'  Much  more,  then,"  I  said,  "  will  it  be  so  in 
morals  and  religion,  which  affect  every  man's  pre- 
sent conduct  and  future  prospects.  If  the  inquirer 
is  prejudiced  against  the  conclusion,  and  thinks  he 
has  any  interest  in  evading  it,  he  will,  of  course, 
fatigue  himself  with  anxiety  about  every  proposi- 
tion which  may  bring  him  a  step  nearer  to  it ;  but 
if  not,  he  will  never  consider  previously  where 
any  proposition,  if  accepted,  may  eventually  lead 
him,  nor  will  he  be  anxious  about  it ;  all  that  sort 
of  fatigue  and  anxiety  he  will  entirely  escape  ;  he 
will  consider  only  whether  the  proposition  be  true, 
and  he  will  act  accordingly." 

Here  I  paused.  Mr.  Compton  was  conscience- 
stricken  and  speechless.  He  was  too  proud  to 
confess  or  to  deny  his  feelings  ;  but  if  he  had  de- 
nied them,  his  countenance  would  have  convicted 
him  of  a  falsehood ;  to  bring  him  to  confess  them 
seemed  to  me  to  be  of  the  most  essential  conse- 
quence. So,  turning  to  Mrs.  Harrison,  I  said, 
"  Join  with  me,  my  good  Madam,  in  pressing  Mr. 
Compton  to  lay  open  his  whole  bosom  to  us.  We 
are  precisely  the  persons  to  whom  it  would  be 
most  natural,  most  proper,  and  most  safe  to  do  it. 
You  are  his  sister,  whom,  after  a  long  estrange- 
ment, he  has  recalled  to  his  affection ;  and  he  is 
assured  of  your  tender  care  and  solicitude  for  him. 
He  cannot  fear  to  entrust  any  thing  to  you.     I  am 


REAL  OBJECTION   TO  CHRISTIANITY.  51 

his  spiritual  guardian,  appointed  by  the  laws  of 
his  country  and  the  discipline  of  our  holy  church, 
to  entreat,  to  advise,  to  admonish  him,  for  his  pre- 
sent and  eternal  welfare.  But  I  cannot  perform 
this  office  with  due  effect,  with  so  many  impedi- 
ments in  my  way,  which,  perhaps,  I  might  remove 
at  once,  if  I  knew  his  heart." 

Mrs.  Harrison  was  deeply  affected,  and  could 
only  weep.  But  her  tears,  perhaps,  availed  her 
more  than  any  words  could  have  done.  Her  broth- 
er was  evidently  moved,  and  took  her  by  the  hand, 
and  tried  to  soothe  her  ;  but  still  no  advance  was 
yet  made  towards  the  purpose  which  I  had  in 
view.  I  resumed,  therefore,  and  said,  looking  at 
Mr.  Compton, 

"  If  the  Christian  religion  be  true,  we  must  be- 
lieve it  all  events ;  and  should  there  be  any  thing 
unrepented  of  in  our  past  life,  which  makes  us 
dread  it  and  cavil  against  it,  that  will  not  alter  the 
fact  or  the  consequence  of  its  truth ;  nor  would  it 
profit  us  to  die  unconvinced ;  the  fact  and  the  con- 
sequence will  remain  the  same.  If,  on  the  other 
hand,  the  Christian  religion  be  false,  which,  how- 
ever, in  the  face  of  so  much  evidence,  can  only  be 
supposed  for  the  sake  of  argument ;  yet  what  shall 
we  have  lost  by  embracing  and  obeying  it  ?  We 
shall  have  lived  according  to  the  best  law  of  our 
nature,  and  we  shall  die  with  the  most  agreeable 


52  REAL  OBJECTION  TO  CHRISTIANITY. 

hopes ;  nor  will  the  disappointment  of  those  hopes 
occasion  us  a  moment's  pain — for  we  shall  wake 
no  more  to  be  conscious  of  it." 

Upon  this,  Mr.  Compton,  with  great  emotion, 
said  to  Mrs.  Harrison,  "  Does  Dr.  Warton  know, 
my  dear  sister,  what  sort  of  a  life  I  have  led?" 

"  No  doubt  of  it,"  she  answered.  "  Being  con- 
stantly resident  in  this  parish,  and  mixing,  as  he 
does,  with  all  ranks,  he  knows  every  thing  of 
every  body.  You  have  nothing  to  conceal  from 
him ;  why  should  you  hesitate,  therefore,  to  talk 
freely  to  him  V 

"  If  you  are  thoroughly  acquainted  with  my 
circumstances.  Dr.  Warton,"  he  said,  turning  to- 
wards me,  but  not  venturing  to  meet  my  counte- 
nance front  to  front,  "  you  will  understand  pretty 
well  upon  what  principle  I  am  acting.  A  person 
who  has  lived  as  I  have,  has  no  comfort  but  in  the 
supposed  falsehood  of  Christianity." 

"  Pardon  me,  Mr.  Compton,"  I  replied,  "  there 
is  no  comfort  for  you  but  in  the  supposition  of  its 
truth." 

"  How  so.  Sir?"  he  inquired  hastily,  and  lifted 
his  eyes  from  the  floor,  and  encountered  mine ; 
and  then  reiterated  his  question,  "  how  so,  I  be* 
seech  you?" 

"  You  confess  yourself  a  sinner,"  I  answered. 
"  The  gospel,  if  true,  is  the  religion  of  sinners ; 


REAL  OBJECTION  TO  CHRISTIANITY.  53 

and  it  is  its  peculiar  business,  and  professed  object, 
to  save  all  sinners  who  believe,  embrace,  and  trust 
in  it.  This  is  precisely  what  you  want;  and  it 
should,  therefore,  be  the  ground  of  unutterable 
comfort  to  you  to  suppose  Christianity  true.  But, 
if  the  Gospel  be  false,  yet,  as  you  cannot  certainly 
know  it  to  be  so,  there  is  no  comfort  for  sinners, 
from  the  mere  supposition  of  its  falsehood ;  unless 
it  be  a  comfort  to  them  to  think  that  perchance 
they  may  die,  like  the  beasts  which  perish,  and  so 
be  annihilated  for  ever  !" 

"  Well,"  he  said,  interrupting  me  before  I  had 
finished,  "  and  is  not  that  better  than  to  think  of 
being  tormented  for  ever?" 

"Undoubtedly  it  is,"  I  replied;  "but  still  the 
rational  soul,  if  there  be  any  spark  of  nobleness 
about  it,  abhors  annihilation,  and  would  almost 
prefer  to  abide  the  risk  of  eternal  punishment,  in 
order  to  avoid  the  dreadful  thought  of  being  no 
more  to  all  eternity.  Is  annihilation  indeed  your 
own  choice;  and  is  your  love  and  desire  of  it  the 
baneful  cause  of  this  relentless  warfare  which  you 
wage  against  Christianity?" 

Mr.  Compton  fetched  a  deep  sigh,  and  answer- 
ed, I  am,  perhaps,  as  capable  as  another  of  aspiring 
to  immortality;  and  the  idea  of  annihilation,  in 
the  abstract,  spreads  a  gloomy  horror  over  my 
imagination,  the  same  as  it  does  to  all  men  of  an 


54  REAL  OBJECTION  TO  CHRISTIANITY. 

ingenuous  spirit.  But  I  prefer  it,  as  the  least  evil 
of  two.  A  blissful  immortality  I  suppose  myself 
incapable  of  obtaining;  and,  therefore,  upon  the 
supposition  of  Christianity  being  true,  my  lot  can 
only  be  an  immortality  of  wo.  Is  it  any  wonder, 
then,  that  I  should  fear  to  be  convinced  of  the 
truth  of  a  scheme,  which  threatens  me  with  so 
many  horrors  ?  No,  no ;  I  do  not  court  or  love 
annihilation ;   I  shudder  at  the  thoughts  of " 

Here  for  a  moment  his  utterance  was  suspend- 
ed ;  but  soon,  by  a  sort  of  convulsive  energy,  he 
finished  the  sentence,  and  ejaculated  the  tremen- 
dous monosyllable,  "  Hell." 

Mrs.  Harrison  turned  pale,  and  seemed  ready 
to  faint ;  and,  therefore,  to  relieve  her,  I  took  up 
the  conversation  without  a  moment's  delay.  "  Com- 
pose yourself,  my  good  Sir,"  I  said,  "  and  let  us 
try  quietly  to  put  this  matter  upon  its  right  foot- 
ing. We  are  straying,  I  think,  from  the  exact 
question,  and  bringing  things  into  debate  which 
ought  not  to  be  brought  in.  Allow  me  to  ask  you 
this ;  will  your  wishing  about  any  thing  in  any 
particular  way,  or  fearing  about  it  in  any  particu- 
lar way,  or  being  convinced  by  probable  argu- 
ments in  any  particular  way,  make  the  thing  to 
be  according  to  your  wishes,  your  fears,  or  your 
conviction?" 

He  granted  that  it  would  not. 


REAL  OBJECTION  TO  CHRISTIANITY.  55 

"  Does  it  not  often  happen,"   I  asked  again, 
"that  men   wish,  and   fear,  and   are   convinced, 
exactly  in  opposite  ways,  about  the  same  thmg? 
"  Certainly,"  he  said. 

•'  Then,"  I  rejoined,  "  it  is  clear,  that  both  can- 
not possibly  be  in  the  right." 
He  allowed  it. 

-  There  is,  also,"  I  said,  "  another  thing  to  be 
taken  into  account ;  that  not  only  may  a  thing  be 
true    which   you    have   convinced  yourself   by 
probable  arguments  to  be  false ;  but  also  the  fact, 
that  other  people  are  convinced  by  argument  the 
contrary  way,  must   tend  to  weaken  your   own 
conviction,  and  to  create  doubts  in  your  mmd  as 
to  the  validity  of  it ;  from  whence  I  would  mfer, 
that  it  is  next  to  impossible  for  you  to  arrive  at  a 
firm  unshaken  conviction  with  respect  to  the  false- 
hood  of  Christianity.     You  may  think  that  the 
evidence  against  it  preponderates  over  the  evidence 
for  it-  but,  as  your  own  judgment  has  no  exclu- 
sive privilege  of  being  in  the  right,  and  as  the 
greatest  of  men    in   all    ages,   the    Bacons,  the 
Boyles,  the  Lockes,  the  Addisons,  the  Newtons, 
have  come  to  the  contrary  conclusion,  you  must 
think  also,  that  the  chances  in  favor  of  its  truth 
are  strong  against  you;  and,  consequently    you 
will  never  be  able  to  bring  yourself  to  so  full  a 
persuasion  of  what  you  wish,  as  to  enjoy  perfect 


56  REAL  OBJECTION  TO  CHRISTIANITY. 

peace  and  tranquillity  in  your  own  breast.  This 
I  consider  to  be  your  case ;  and  on  this  idea  I 
said,  that  there  is  no  comfort  for  you  but  in  the 
supposition  of  the  truth  of  Christianity." 

This  way  of  putting  the  question  seemed  to 
be  new  to  him,  and  he  was  not  prepared  to  answer 
at  once ;  so  I  resumed  the  argument  in  this  man- 
ner. "  You  wish  to  arrive  at  the  conviction  that 
Christianity  is  false.  If  you  could  do  so,  it  might 
not  accomplish  your  purpose  nevertheless,  which 
is  to  escape  eternal  punishment ;  because,  in  spite 
of  your  conviction,  Christianity  may  be  true,  and 
you  may  wake  again  in  another  world  to  prove  it." 

He  seemed  agitated  while  I  said  this,  but  I 
continued  thus  : — "  I  assert,  however,  in  the  next 
place,  that  you  will  never  arrive  at  that  convic- 
tion. There  is  something  in  your  own  breast 
that  will  never  suffer  it.  God  himself,  I  believe, 
will  never  suffer  it.  A  doubt,  at  least,  about  it, 
will  always  torment  you,  when  you  recollect  the 
possibility  of  your  being  mistaken ;  the  muhitudes 
of  great  and  good  men,  who  have  examined  the 
subject  and  have  been  satisfied  with  it,  living  and 
dying  in  the  faith  of  Christ ;  and  the  prodigious 
weight  of  the  evidence  itself,  which  it  is  extremely 
difficult  for  any  man  to  gainsay,  or  resist.  May 
I  ask,  Mr.  Compton,  whether  you  are  not,  since 
these  recent  conversations  with  me,  at  a  greater 


REAL  OBJECTION  TO  CHRISTIANITY.  57 

distance  than  ever  from  the  conviction  which  you 
wish  to  entertain  ?" 

"  I  am  indeed,"  he  confessed  in  a  moment,  and 
without  the  slightest  hesitation.  "  My  suspicions 
of  the  truth  of  Christianity  increase  daily." 

"Then  why  resist  increasing  light ?". I  said. 
"  Let  me  conjure  you  to  endeavor  to  convert  those 
suspicions,  and  all  your  fears,  into  hopes.  You 
are  laboring  under  an  erroneous  alarm,  when  you 
assume  that  there  is  no  hope  for  you  if  Christianity 
be  true.  You  have  formed  altogether  a  wrong 
idea  of  the  gospel,  if  you  think  yourself,  on  ac- 
count of  your  sins,  without  the  pale  of  salvation, 
and  reserved  irreversibly  for  an  immortality  of 
wo.  The  gospel  preaches  repentance  for  the  re- 
mission of  sins  to  all." 

Here  he  interrupted  me  with  a  deep  sigh,  and 
exclaimed,  "  Ah !  Dr.  Warton,  there  is  the  diffi- 
culty ;  insuperable  I  fear  by  me.  I  cannot  repent 
of  my  sins,  and  consequently  I  must  not  expect 
remission  of  them.  My  gloomy  anticipations, 
therefore,  are  too  well  justified." 

"  You  cannot  repent?"  I  said.  "  Granted  ;  but 
what  has  that  to  do  with  the  rejection  of  Chris- 
tianity ?•  Why,  if  there  were  no  such  religion  as 
the  Christian,  if  you  were  living  by  the  light  of 
nature  alone,  you  would  have  thought  repentance 
necessary,  unless  you  reject  a  future  state.     Nay» 


58  REAL  OBJECTION  TO  CHRISTIANITY. 

tell  me  candidly,  were  you  not,  in  the  beginning 
of  our  conversation  this  very  day,  on  the  point  of 
arguing,  that  our  own  reason,  without  a  revela- 
tion, would  satisfy  us  of  the  necessity  and  of  the 
efficacy  of  repentance  ?  Your  not  being  able  to 
repent,  therefore,  is  not  a  valid  reason  for  hesita- 
ting to  accept  Christianity." 

"It  is  very  true,"  he  replied;  "but  knowing 
that  repentance  is  the  great  doctrine  of  the  gospel, 
and  thinking  that,  if  it  could  be  proved  to  be  the  doc- 
trine of  nature  and  reason,  Ave  shall  have  no  need 
of  the  gospel,  in  that  respect  at  least,  I  was  pre- 
pared to  argue  thus." 

"  Very  well,"  I  said.  "  To  make  a  rational 
system,  in  which  repentance  shall  be  necessary 
and  useful,  you  would  have  assumed,  no  doubt,  a 
future  state  of  retribution;  and  then  repentance 
comes  in,  does  it  not,  to  avert  the  punishment 
which  might  otherwise  have  been  inflicted  in  that 
future  state  ?" 

"  That  is  the  way  in  which  I  should  have  ar- 
gued," he  replied,  "  but  it  would  be  ridiculous  to 
do  so  now,  when  I  stand  confessed  a  sinner,  an 
impenitent,  incorrigible  sinner  ;  or  corrected  only, 
as  to  the  practice  of  sin,  by  the  uncontrollable 
effects  of  my  disease,  not  by  any  voluntary  change 
of  sentiment.  No,  no  !  A  state  of  retribution  is 
not  a  state  of  my  choice,  or  a  state  for  me ;  nor  is 


REAL  OBJECTION  TO  CHRISTIANITY.  59 

repentance,  which  should  be  preparatory  to  it; 
ahhough  repentance  and  retribution  may  be  a  dis- 
covery of  that  natural  light  which  I  might  have 
pretended  to  reckon  sufficient  for  us." 

"  Repentance,"  I  said,  "  in  the  way  in  which  it 
may  be  entirely  useful  to  us,  is  not  a  discovery  of 
nature ;  it  is  truly  a  Scripture  doctrine.  It  is  dis- 
coverable, indeed,  by  human  reason,  (not  that  hu- 
man reason  ever  actually  discovered  it,)  that  the 
best  thing  which  a  wicked  man  can  do,  is  to  re- 
pent ;  so  far  nature  may  be  supposed  to  dictate : 
but  it  is  from  Scripture  alone  that  we  learn  the  full 
extent  of  the  efficacy  of  repentance,  and  why  it  is 
efficacious  at  all,  namely,  because  of  the  sufferings 
and  death  of  Jesus  Christ.  Then  again,  as  to  re- 
tribution, you  know  very  well  that  the  notions  of 
the  vulgar  about  it  were  mere  fables  and  absurd- 
ities ;  you  know,  also,  how  the  ancient  philoso- 
phers disputed  about  a  future  state,  and  that  they 
had  no  clear  conceptions  of  it, — no,  not  even  the 
v/isest  amongst  them ;  and  very  few  amongst 
them,  indeed,  had  any  idea  of  things  being  set 
right  in  that  state  by  a  just  apportionment  of  re- 
wards and  punishments.  Socrates,  perhaps,  came 
nearest  to  it.  It  was  finely  said  by  him,  that  for 
a  righteous  man,  whether  living  or  dying,  it  must 
be  well ;  and  when  he  was  pressed  with  the  sup- 
position, that  in  this  life  every  possible  calamity 


60  REAL  OBJECTION   TO  CHRISTIANITY. 

and  injustice  might  befal  his  righteous  man,  he 
seems  to  insinuate,  on  that  very  ground,  that 
another  life  was  necessary  to  remedy  the  irregu- 
larities of  this ;  to  reward  suffering  virtue,  and  to 
punish  successful  vice.  But,  in  truth,  the  whole 
business,  in  all  its  detail,  is  a  matter  of  revelation. 
Deeply  thinking  men,  like  Socrates,  might  have 
caught  some  glimmerings  of  a  reckoning  to  be 
made  hereafter  ; — but  of  the  awful  day  of  a  gene- 
ral judgment,  the  great  Judge  himself,  the  sen- 
tence which  he  will  pronounce,  and  the  everlasting 
rewards  and  punishments  to  follow  it;  of  these 
they  could  have  learnt  nothing  by  reason  and 
argument ; — all  these  are  purely  doctrines  of 
Scripture.  But  this  is  scarcely  to  our  present  pur- 
pose. You  no  longer  consider  it  worth  contend- 
ing for,  whether  repentance  and  retribution  be  dis- 
coveries of  nature,  or  of  the  gospel ;  if  retribution 
be  to  take  place,  and  the  sinner  must  be  condemn- 
ed without  repentance,  in  whatever  way  he  comes 
to  the  knowledge  of  it,  repentance  is  his  great 
sheet-anchor,  and  he  must  cling  to  it  inseparably 
to  escape  the  wreck  of  his  immortal  soul." 

"Aye,  aye,"  he  exclaimed,  "but  I  should  not 
have  allowed  the  immortality  of  the  soul." 

"  No,"  I  said,  "  nor  the  being  of  a  God  either, 
for  we  must  have  come  to  that  at  last." 

He  blushed,  but  continued,  "  Perhaps  not,  if  I 


REAL  OBJECTION   TO  CHRISTIANITY.  61 

had  persevered  in  the  same  sentiments  with  which 
I  set  out  this  morning ;  and  I  should  have  proba- 
bly argued,  that,  unless  the  immortality  of  the  soul 
and  the  being  of  a  God  were  established  on  the 
firmest  grounds,  nothing  else  could  be  admitted 
for  a  moment.  Not  that  I  do  not  myself  think  that 
there  is  a  God,  and  that  the  soul  is  immortal,  in- 
stinctively, as  it  were,  when  I  reflect  seriously 
upon  it ;  but  I  foolishly  fancied  that  it  would  be 
■  some  relief  to  my  mind,  if,  when  the  question  was 
argued,  there  should  appear  to  be  any  failure  of 
proof  But  I  yield  so  far ;  the  suspicion,  I  am 
sure,  would  for  ever  haunt  me ;  I  will  debate  it, 
therefore,  no  more.  There  is  a  God;  and  the 
soul,  for  me,  shall  be  henceforth  immortal,  and  con- 
sequently destined  to  be  judged  hereafter  for  its 
doings  here.  I  grant  this;  and  therefore  also, 
that,  if  possible,  it  must  be  cleansed  by  repent- 
ance from  the  stains  with  which  this  world  may 
have  defiled  it.  Repentance,  then,  I  admit  in 
theory,  but  I  do  not  find  how  to  practise  it.  At 
present  my  only  sorrow  is,  that  I  can  no  longer 
pursue  the  enjoyments  which  constituted  my  for- 
mer happiness;  and  you  will  not  deign,  I  pre- 
sume, to  call  this  repentance." 

"  No,  indeed,"  I  said,  "  I  should  betray  you  if 
I  did ;  the  truth  must  not  be  concealed  from  you 
by  me.     That  which  you  describe  is  no   godly 
6 


62  REAL  OBJECTION  TO  CHRISTIANITY. 

sorrow,  the  fruit  of  real  penitence ;  it  is  a  mere 
worldly  sorrow — a  sorrow  which  produces  death 
and  not  life — which  would  destroy  the  soul  to  all 
eternity,  instead  of  cleansing  it  for  eternal  happi- 
ness. But,  strictly  speaking,  it  is  the  blood  of 
Christ  only  which  cleanses  from  all  sin.  No  re- 
pentance can  undo,  in  any  sense,  what  has  once 
been  done.  In  Him,  therefore,  must  you  lay  your 
foundation ;  you  must  build  upon  that  rock ;  from 
faith  towards  Him  must  spring  the  true  repentance, 
which  is  never  to  be  repented  of  itself  This  re- 
pentance, believe  me,  is  no  merely  human  work, 
and  therefore  as  yet  you  have  it  not ;  you  seek  it 
not  from  above,  from  whence  alone  it  comes,  by 
the  instrumentality  of  the  third  person  in  the  holy, 
blessed,  and  glorious  Trinity,  who,  with  the  Father 
and  the  Son  together,  is  one  God.  This  doctrine 
is  no  idle  speculation,  as  you  may  now  begin  to  feel 
yourself" 

"  I  remember,"  he  said,  "  what  is  asserted 
about  this  doctrine  very  well ;  it  appears  exceed- 
ingly extraordinary  to  me ;  you  lay  the  greatest 
stress  upon  the  divinity  Of  Jesus  Christ,  without 
the  acknowledgment  of  which  you  affirm  that  a 
man  wishing  to  be  a  Christian  cannot  stir  a  sin- 
gle step ;  in  short,  that  he  would  have  no  induce- 
ment to  set  about  the  task  of  repentance  and  re- 
formation of  life,  because  he  could  not  know  or 


REAL  OBJECTION  TO  CHRISTIANITY.  63 

suppose  that  any  atonement  for  sin  had  been  made. 
I  cannot  describe  to  you  how  difficult  all  this  ap- 
pears to  me ;  you  must  go  back,  therefore,  if  you 
please,  to  these  points :  but  I  am  prepared,  I  as- 
sure you,  to  listen  to  your  explanations,  or  to  de- 
bate the  matter  with  you,  in  a  very  different  spirit 
from  what  I  had  intended.  Before,  I  trembled  at 
the  idea  of  believing  such  things:  now,  I  fear  lest 
I  may  never  be  brought  to  believe  them." 

I  could  not  but  rejoice  at  this  declaration.  It 
opened  a  new  ray  of  hope,  for  it  seemed  to  show 
that  the  unhappy  man  was  convinced  that  wicked- 
ness of  heart  and  life,  was  the  great  difficulty 
which  had  recently  exerted  its  influence  in  keep- 
ing him  an  enemy  to  Christianity.  This  is,  all 
the  world  over,  the  great  difficulty  in  the  way, 
and  when  it  is  once  removed,  hope  comes  imme- 
diately in. 


CHAPTER  II. 


THE  MAIN  ARGUMENT. 


I  SECRETLY  thanked  God  for  the  change  which 
had  already  taken  place  in  the  tone  and  sentiment 
of  my  sick  friend,  and  implored  his  divine  aid  in 
the  great  work  which  yet  remained.  Much  in- 
deed was  done,  but  much  was  still  to  do,  and  could 
only  be  done  by  the  divine  help.  I  acknowledge 
that  help  already,  for  never  did  any  conversation 
begin  with  so  little  prospect  of  success  as  on  this 
day.  In  the  very  outset,  it  was  turned  out  of  the 
channel  in  which  the  sceptic  himself  designed  it 
to  proceed,  and  took  a  much  more  fortunate  range, 
as  was  proved  by  the  event.  But  how  to  take 
advantage  of  the  present  favorable  posture  of 
things  was  the  problem  now  to  be  solved,  and  be- 
fore I  had  thought  one  single  minute  about  it,  the 
coach  stopped.  We  had  arrived  without  being 
aware  of  it  on  the  ridge  of  a  hill,  which  formed  a 
natural  terrace  of  a  considerable  length,  from 
whence,  on  both  sides,  there  was  a  rich,  diversified 
prospect  of  the  surrounding  country.  On  the 
western  side  particularly,  the  scenery  was  strik- 
ingly magnificent ;  the  declivity  of  the  hill  was 
6* 


66  THE   MAIN  ARGUMENT. 

clothed  with  a  fine  hanging  wood  down  to  the 
bottom,  except  that  here  and  there  some  rugged 
rocks,  in  various  picturesque  forms,  started  out 
from  amongst  the  trees,  and  filled  the  eye  with 
surprise  and  delight.  Below,  in  the  depths  of  the 
valley,  a  river  was  winding  along,  of  ample 
dimensions,  and  all  alive  with  sails.  On  its  banks 
were  countless  villas  glittering  in  the  sun.  Tra- 
cing the  stream  downwards,  you  saw  it,  at  the 
distance  of  some  miles,  approaching  the  great 
town  in  our  neighborhood,  the  spires  and  towers 
of  which  were  clearly  discernible.  Some  blue 
hills,  very  remote,  made  the  back-ground  of  the 
picture. 

Such  was  the  view  from  the  carriage  itself, 
well  able  to  charm  away  every  sorrov^r,  and  to 
disperse  every  gloom,  but  that  of  despair.  Mr. 
Compton  was  very  desirous  that  his  sister,  who 
was  a  stranger  to  it,  should  be  conducted  to  va- 
rious points  not  accessible  but  on  foot ;  and  that 
she  should  have  time  to  admire  every  thing.  I 
took  her,  therefore,  under  my  charge  to  the  first 
seat,  a  little  below  the  brow  of  the  hill,  where  a 
glade,  opened  through  the  wood,  let  in  the  chief 
features  of  the  landscape.  Whilst  we  were  seated 
there,  Mr.  Compton  drove  backwards  and  forwards 
on  the  greensward  at  the  top. 

Mrs.  Harrison  was  sufficiently  awake  to  the 


THE  MAIN  ARGUMENT.  67 

beauties  of  this  enchanting  scene ;  but  the  state  of 
her  brother  was  nearest  to  her  heart ;  so,  after  a 
little  delay,  she  said  to  me,  "  Indeed,  Dr.  Warton, 
I  flatter  myself  that  we  have  advanced  many  steps 
to-day.  I  had  a  little  glimmering  of  hope  in  my 
mind,  when  my  brother  made  such  an  arrange- 
ment as  to  leave  Mr.  Harrison  at  home,  for  he 
feels  toward  him  a  degree  of  reserve  which  would 
prevent  him  from  unbosoming  his  real  sentiments 
in  his  presence,  on  so  momentous  a  subject  as 
that  of  religion ;  but  the  hope  vanished,  when  he 
refused  to  answer  your  questions ;  and  then  again 
was  suddenly  realized  by  the  free,  unexpected 
declaration  of  his  opinions,  and  still  more  by  his 
avowal  of  a  determination  to  confer  amicably  with 
you,  and  to  relinquish  all  cavilling  in  your  future 
discussions  on  Christianity." 

"  Very  well,  my  dear  Madam,"  1  replied ; 
••  but  how  are  we  now  to  proceed  ?" 

"  We  depend  entirely  upon  your  judgment  and 
kindness,"  she  answered;  "but  he  has  himself 
pointed  out  some  topics,  which  he  wishes  to  under- 
stand, and  which  are,  at  the  same  time,  of  essential 
consequence  to  the  faith  and  practice  of  every 
Christian;  you  will,  without  doubt,  be  so  good  as 
to  go  on  with  the  work  which  you  have  begun, 
and  explain  those  topics  to  him." 

••By  all  means,"  I  said;  •'but  what  is  to  be 


bo  THE  MAIN   ARGUMENT. 

the  mode  of  explanation?  Will  he  admit  the 
Scriptures,  and  be  satisfied  with  texts  produced 
out  of  them  ?  Or  must  we  pursue  a  different 
method?" 

"I  fear  it  will  be  necessary,"  she  replied,  "to 
pursue  a  different  method  ?  If  he  admits  the  Scrip- 
tures, his  conviction  will  be  an  easy  task  to  you." 

"  I  am  not  so  sure  of  that,^^  I  said :  "  it  will 
certainly  be  a  most  astonishing  point  gained  ;  but 
he  may  dispute  about  the  interpretation.  Suppose 
he  were  to  say,  when  pressed  with  a  text,  that 
different  sects  of  religionists  interpreted  that  text  in 
different  ways,  and  then  argue,  that  it  is  impos- 
sible for  him  to  know  which  is  in  the  right?" 

"  He  will  yield,  I  think,  to  your  authority, 
Dr.  Warton,"  she  answered:  "besides,  you  will 
be  able  to  cite  the  text  in  the  original  language  ; 
and  as  my  brother  was  educated  at  Oxford,  and 
before  that  at  a  great  school,  I  should  hope  that 
he  had  not  so  entirely  forgotten  his  Greek,  as  to 
be  incompetent  to  judge  of  your  arguments." 

"  If  that  be  the  case,"  I  said,  "  we  shall  pro- 
ceed smoothly  and  rapidly,  so  far  as  the  interpre- 
tation is  concerned.  But  to  understand  Chris- 
tianity, and  to  be  a  Christian  one's  self,  are  almost 
as  wide  from  each  other  as  east  from  west. 
Whence  is  to  come  the  Christian  spirit  ?  But  I 
do  not  despair,  with  God's  blessing." 


THE  MAIN  ARGUMENT.  69 

"  I  trust  not,"  she  replied ;  "  so,  if  you  please,  we 
will  quit  this  beautiful  spot,  after  taking  another 
hasty  view  of  it,  and  return  to  the  object  of  our 
solicitude." 

Upon  this,  she  rose  from  the  seat ;  and  when 
I  had  told  her  to  whom  some  of  the  most  attractive 
residences  belonged,  we  re-ascended  the  hill ;  and 
having  soon  met  the  carriage,  we  resumed  our 
places  in  it,  and  the  coachman  was  ordered  to 
drive  homewards.  Something  was  said  about  the 
noble  prospects  which  we  had  just  been  viewing, 
and  Mrs.  Harrison  thanked  her  brother  for  bring- 
ing her  to  see  them ;  but  the  more  important  mat- 
ter, which  had  engaged  us  before,  seemed  still  to 
be  in  possession  of  all  our  faculties.  Mr.  Comp- 
ton  himself  was  satisfied  with  making  a  very  few 
inquiries,  and  was  evidently  anxious  to  revert  to 
the  former  subject  of  conversation.  I  was  ready 
to  follow  wherever  he  might  choose  to  lead  me, 
and  I  viraited  to  see  if  he  would  propose  any 
thing ;  but  before  he  did  so,  Mrs.  Harrison,  alarm- 
ed at  the  waste  of  such  precious  moments,  inter- 
rupted the  painful  silence,  and  prepared  the  way 
for  the  renewal  of  our  religious  discussions. 

"  Well,  my  dear  brother,"  she  said,  "  I  am 
longing  to  get  back  to  the  point  at  which  we  stop- 
ped upon  our  arrival  at  this  beautiful  scene.  I 
find  that  1  receive  from  these  discussions  an  ac- 


70  THE  MAIN  ARGUMENT. 

cession  to  my  knowledge,  and  a  confirmation  of 
my  faith.  Will  you  mention,  therefore,  to  Dr. 
Warton,  what  chiefly  presses  upon  your  mind 
under  the  present  circumstances  ?" 

"  I  am  thinking  about  it,"  was  his  answer ; 
•♦  and  it  appears  to  me,  that  it  would  clear  the  road 
for  the  reception  of  other  things,  if  Dr.  Warton 
would  enlarge  a  little  upon  repentance.  It  is  a 
dictate  of  nature,  to  a  certain  limit  at  least;  al- 
though I  am  aware  that  the  main  depen dance  of 
the  heathens  was  upon  sacrifice.  If  they  offended 
their  gods,  they  looked  to  sacrifice,  I  believe,  and 
not  to  repentance,  as  the  means  of  reconciliation 
with  them.  How  they  came  to  think  of  sacri- 
fices, which  seem  quite  out  of  the  way,  and  to 
neglect  repentance,  which  so  slight  an  effort  of 
reason  might  have  taught  them,  I  am  totally  at  a 
loss  to  conjecture.  However,  in  the  course  of 
ages  and  the  progress  of  discovery,  which  is  the 
same  in  morals  as  in  other  things,  we  may  natur- 
ally suppose  that  repentance  would  be  discovered  ; 
and  if  a  real  reform  took  place  in  the  lives  of  men, 
what  more  could  be  desired?  What  need  of 
such  a  scheme  as  the  Christian  atonement,  which 
appears  to  me  inexplicable  ?" 

"  A  plausible,  if  not  a  satisfactory,  explanation 
may  be  found,"  I  said,  "  for  the  several  matters 
which  you  propose  to  me.     With  respect  to  sacri- 


THE   MAIN   ARGUMENT.  71 

fice,  the  origin  may  be  doubtful ;  but  the  rite  itself 
seems  to  point  very  clearly  to  the  doctrine  of  atone- 
ment. If  men  themselves  were  the  inventors  of 
sacrifice,  it  is  hardly  possible,  one  should  think, 
but  that  they  must  have  had  a  decided  notion  of 
atoning  for  their  sins  by  the  death  of  another  animal 
in  their  own  stead.  By  such  a  proceeding  an  ac- 
knowledgment might  have  been  implied,  that  they 
deserved  death  in  their  own  persons,  but  that  they 
trusted  to  the  mercy  of  their  deities  to  accept  the 
death  of  some  less  valuable  living  creature  substi- 
tuted for  them.  On  the  other  hand,  if  sacrifice 
was  an  original  injunction  of  God  himself,  there 
can  be  no  doubt  whatever  of  its  being  intended  to 
accustom  the  minds  of  men,  from  the  beginning,  to 
the  idea  of  an  atonement ;  that  they  might  be  the 
better  prepared  to  understand  and  accept  the  great 
atonement  that  was  made,  by  the  one  sacrifice  of 
Christ,  once  for  all,  for  the  sins  of  the  whole 
world  ;  when  all  other  sacrifices  were  thenceforth 
to  be  abolished,  and  men  were  in  future  to  put 
their  trust  in  that  alone.  At  all  events,  when  God 
selected  the  Jews  for  a  particular  purpose,  he 
adopted  the  rite  of  sacrifice ;  and  the  sacred  authors 
tell  us,  that  all  the  sacrifices  of  the  Mosaic  Law, 
and  that  of  the  Paschal  Lamb  especially,  were  but 
types  or  representatives  of  the  sacrifice  of  Christ,  to 
which  alone  they  owed  all  their  efficacy. 


T2  THE  MAIN   ARGUMENT. 

•*  With  respect  to  repentance,  which  you  think 
so  natural,  if  men  fell  into  the  way  of  sacrifice  in 
preference  to  it,  though  you  cannot  account  for 
sacrifice,  you  ought  to  conclude,  that  they  were 
aware  of  some  great  difficulty,  or  some  great  defect 
in  repentance,  which  occasioned  them  to  neglect 
it.  The  difficulty  might  be,  that  they  were  reluc- 
tant to  amend  their  lives ;  and  the  defect,  that  re- 
pentance was  no  atonement.  Whatever  might  be 
their  future  conduct,  still  they  might  expect  to  be 
punished  for  the  past ;  and  consequently  there  was 
such  a  want  of  encouragement  to  abandon  vice  and 
pursue  virtue,  that  few  resorted  to  repentance,  and 
still  fewer  proposed  it  as  a  remedy.  But  how  dif- 
ferent is  the  case  under  our  holy  religion  !  Atone- 
ment is  the  very  corner-stone  of  the  whole  build- 
ing ;*  an  atonement,  too,  not  by  the  blood  of  bulls 
and  goats,  which  had  no  value,  except  in  conse- 
quence of  God's  appointment  and  promise ;  but  by 
the  blood  of  the  Son  of  God,  which  had  an  inher- 
ent value  of  its  own,  inestimable  and  infinite,  and 
was  therefore  adequate  to  purge  away  the  sins  of 
all  mankind.  On  the  strength  of  this  atonement, 
however,  we  may  lament  the  past,  yet  if  we  obey 
God's  righteous  laws  in  future,  we  need  not  fear. 
Another  has  been  bruised  for  our  iniquities ;  the 
sins  of  us  all  were  laid  on  Him  ;  and  by  his  stripes 
we  are  healed.     God  is  perfectly  reconciled  to  us; 


I 


THE  MAIN  ARGUMENT.  73 

we  may  cast  off  the  burdensome  load  of  former 
guilt  which  weighed  us  to  the  ground,  and  begin 
a  new  career  with  unimpeded  vigor  and  unin- 
cumbered hopes. 

Upon  the  whole,  the  doctrine  of  an  atonement 
seems  to  accord  with  the  common  sense  of  man- 
kind ;  and  although,  as  I  said  early  in  the  morn- 
ing, they  might  have  thought  repentance  the  best 
method  of  proceeding  in  cases  of  sin,  yet  they 
could  never  have  thought  that  even  the  most  per- 
fect repentance  would  undo  the  past,  or,  in  other 
words,  be  a  sufficient  reason  to  induce  the  Deity 
to  overlook  it.  A  simple  change  of  life  does 
nothing  towards  the  vindication  of  God's  violated 
laws ;  the  divine  sanction  is  trampled  upon  with 
manifest  impunity ;  there  is  no  punishment  to 
operate  as  an  example  to  others,  or  a  penalty  to 
the  offenders  themselves.  This  system,  it  is  plain, 
would  not  do  for  human  governors,  and  much  less 
will  it  do  for  the  great  moral  Governor  of  the  uni- 
verse. But  by  our  gospel  system  his  justice  is 
satisfied,  and  his  wrath  appeased  ;  and  he  can 
now,  therefore,  without  any  impeachment  of  his 
other  attributes,  exercise  the  lovely  attribute  of 
mercy.     He  can  pardon  upon  repentance." 

When  I  had  finished,  Mrs.  Harrison  exclaimed 
immediately,  not  waiting  for  Mr.  Compton  to 
speak,  "  Now,  my  good  brother,  how  does  this 


74  THE     MAIN    ARGUMENT. 

matter  appear  to  you  1  I  confess  at  once,  for  my- 
self, that  I  never  saw  it  so  clearly  before.  Dr. 
Warton,  you  set  out  with  telling  us,  that  we  were 
only  to  expect  a  plausible  solution  of  the  suggested 
difficulties ;  at  least  you  spoke  with  diffidence  of 
your  being  able  to  give  a  satisfactory  one :  but  to 
ifie,  I  assure  you,  this  is  quite  satisfactory,  and  I 
think  it  must  be  so  to  i/ou,  brother." 

So  much  ingenuousness  on  the  part  of  Mrs. 
Harrison  appeared  to  produce  a  good  effect  on 
Mr.  Compton,  and  he  said,  "  What  you  have  ad- 
vanced, Dr.  Warton,  appears  certainly  to  be  well 
worthy  of  a  most  attentive  consideration  ;  but  the 
Christian  scheme  would  be  more  intelligible  to 
me,  if  it  were  merely  an  abolition  of  the  tedious 
and  costly  ceremonies  of  sacrifice  ;  a  confirmation 
of  what  nature  prompted  in  respect  to  repentance ; 
and  the  admission  of  it  as  the  cancelling  of  the 
past.  Then  I  would  accept  Jesus  Christ  for  a 
person  divinely  commissioned  to  republish,  in  its 
best  form,  and  with  its  greatest  force,  the  whole 
law  of  nature,  and  more  particularly  the  essential 
doctrine  of  the  efficacy  of  repentance;  to  give 
mankind  clearer  and  more  consistent  notions  of  a 
future  state  of  rewards  and  punishments ;  and  to 
bear  witness  to  his  own  sincerity,  and  to  the  truth 
of  what  he  preached,  by  his  sufferings  and  death. 
This  I  can  understand  very  well ;  when  I  go  out 


I 


THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT.  75 

of  these  bounds,  I  am  like  a  man  wading  beyond 
his  depth  in  some  dark  and  fathomless  ocean." 

"  Then,"  I  said,  "  you  would  consider  Jesus 
Christ  (setting  aside  his  divine  mission)  in  the 
same  light  as  you  would  Socrates,  or  rather,  per- 
haps, as  Ridley,  Latimer,  and  Cranmer  ;  as  a  mar- 
tyr, and  not  a  Redeemer  and  Savior  ?" 

"  I  would,"  he  answered  ;  "  that  is  the  easiest 
way  of  viewing  the  matter,  and  of  explaining  it." 

"  It  may  seem  so,"  I  said,  "  at  first  sight,  per- 
haps, and  theoretically,  if  you  leave  the  Scriptures 
out  of  the  question.  But  have  you  thought  at  all 
how  to  get  rid  of  the  Scriptures,  or  of  the  particu- 
lar passages  which  militate  directly  against  your 
theory,  or  how  to  reconcile  them  with  it  ?" 

"  No,  I  have  not,"  he  confessed  ;  "  my  theory 
is  but  just  come  into  my  imagination,  in  conse- 
quence of  our  recent  conferences." 

"  Well,  then,  I  must  tell  you,"  I  said,  "  that 
the  gospel  is  totally  irreconcilable  with  such  a 
theory,  nor  could  you  make  it  otherwise  by  any 
efforts  whatever.  The  doctrines  and  the  history 
are  so  interwoven  together,  that  you  cannot  sepa- 
rate them  without  destroying  the  whole.  It  is 
like  the  coat  woven  throughout,  from  the  top  to 
the  bottom,  without  a  seam  ;  it  is  not  to  be  parted ; 
you  may  cast  lots  upon  it,  if  you  please,  but  you 
must  take  all  or  none," 


76  THE     MAIN    ARGUMENT. 

Here  I  paused  for  his  answer ;  and,  after  ap- 
pearing to  turn  the  matter  over  in  his  thoughts  for 
a  few  moments,  he  said,  "  I  am  not  disposed  to 
debate  with  you  to-day  the  genuineness  of  the 
Scriptures.  That  there  was  such  a  person  as 
Jesus  Christ ;  that  he  was  the  founder  of  the 
Christian  religion  ;  and  that  he  was  put  to  death 
by  crucifixion,  we  know  from  heathen  authors ; 
and  I  believe  that  all  the  further  information  which 
we  have  about  himself  and  his  religion,  in  the 
vast  variety  of  books  that  have  been  written  upon 
the  subject,  is  either  fabulous  or  taken  from  the 
Scriptures  themselves.  At  all  events,  I  will  admit 
them  for  the  present,  as  the  fountain  head  from 
which  we  must  draw  materials  for   argument." 

"  To  come  to  the  point  then  at  once,"  I  said, 
"take  that  memorable  text,  which  I  have  already 
quoted  for  another  purpose;  having  mentioned  it 
before,  it  suggests  itself  first  to  my  mind  now : — 
•  God  so  loved  the  world,  that  he  gave  his  only 
begotten  Son,  to  the  end  that  all  v>^ho  believe  in 
him  should  not  perish,  but  have  everlasting  life.' 
Now,  what  a  number  of  particulars  have  we  here, 
which  are  quite  inexplicable  on  your  supposition. 
First,  Jesus  Christ  is  not  simply  a  man,  like  one 
of  the  prophets  or  martyrs.  Secondly,  he  is  the 
Son  of  God  in  so  peculiar  and  appropriate  a 
sense,  as  to  be  God's  only  begotten  Son.     Thirdly, 


THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT.  77 

it  is  necessary  to  believe  in  liim,  a  distinction 
which  none  of  the  prophets  or  martyrs  ever  arro- 
gated to  themselves.  Fourthly,  the  consequence 
of  believing  in  him  is  two-fold ;  an  escape  from 
perishing  like  brutes,  or  from  being  punished  eter- 
nally like  the  devils  ;  and  the  attainment  of  immor- 
tality, or  of  infinite  bliss  and  glory.  And  fifthly, 
that  God  gave  him  to  the  v^rorld,  because  he  loved 
the  world  in  an  extraordinary  degree,  and  for  the 
very  purpose  that  the  world  might  believe  in  him, 
and  thus  be  saved  from  wrath  and  admitted  into 
grace.  Whether  we  comprehend  these  things  or 
not,  makes  no  difference  now ;  this  is  the  brief 
outline  of  the  Christian  religion,  and  you  cannot 
square  it  to  your  theory.  The  single  expression, 
that  God  gave  him,  leads  inevitably  to  the  most 
momentous  conclusions — Gave  him  for  what? 
Undoubtedly,  to  diQ.  And  why  to  die  ?  That 
men  may  believe  in  him,  you  are  expressly  told. 
Yes ;  and  what  is  more,  that  their  belief  in  him 
may  purchase  for  them  the  astonishing  gift  of  ever- 
lasting life.  But  what  has  their  believing  in  him, 
as  a  person  who  died,  to  do  with  their  own  attain- 
ment of  life  1  Ah  !  Mr.  Compton,  in  what  other 
way  shall  we  attempt  to  explain  this,  but  as  the 
rest  of  the  Scriptures  explain  it  ?  Why,  he  died 
for  them ;  his  death  was  the  atonement  for  their 
sins ;  and  by  their  faith  in  him  they  are  put  into  a 


78  THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT. 

capacity  of  reaping  the  benefits  of  that  death, 
which  are,  freedom  from  guilt  and  punishment, 
and  restoration  to  righteousness,  happiness,  and 
immortality." 

After  saying  so  much  I  stopped,  as  before,  to 
ascertain  whether  he  was  satisfied,  or  not ;  but 
before  he  had  determined  what  his  reply  should 
be,  Mrs.  Harrison  interposed,  and  reminded  us  of 
the  form  in  which  our  blessed  Lord  and  Savior 
had  instituted  the  holy  sacrament  of  his  body  and 
blood.  "Upon  presenting  the  bread,  his  words 
were,  •  Take,  eat,  this  is  my  body,  which  is  given 
for  you  ;'  and  upon  presenting  the  wine,  his  words 
were,  '  This  is  my  blood  of  the  New  Testament, 
which  is  shed  for  you,  and  for  many,  for  the  re- 
mission of  sins.'  " 

"  They  are  decisive,"  I  said,  "both  that  his  be- 
ing given  implied  his  death,  and  that  his  death  was 
a  sacrifice — the  shedding  of  his  blood  for  the  re- 
mission of  sins  marks  the  atonement  incontestably ; 
and  it  is  the  general  doctrine  of  Scripture,  that 
without  the  shedding  of  blood,  there  is  no  remis- 
sion. What  is  your  opinion  of  this,  Mr.  Compton?" 

"  That  all  the  heathens,"  he  answered,  "  trust- 
ed in  their  sacrifices,  I  have  allowed  already,  and 
it  cannot  be  denied;  and  the  Jews  also  did  the 
same.  No\A^  might  not  Jesus  Christ,  being  a 
Jew,  have  taken  advantage  of  this  feature  in  the 


THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT.  79 

Jewish  law,  and  so  represent  his  own  death  as  to 
make  it  appear  to  accord  with  that  law,  as  well  as 
with  the  prejudices  of  the  heathens?" 

"  What  ?"  I  said ;  "  before  his  death  took  place? 
If  his  partisans  had  done  this  after  his  death,  he 
himself  having  given  no  hint  of  it  during  his  life, 
the  objection  might  have  been  worth  considering. 
But  in  the  way  in  which  you  put  it,  it  is  not  ten- 
able for  a  moment.  Besides,  the  very  supposition 
that  he  represented  things  differently  from  what 
they  really  were,  insinuates  that  he  was  an  im- 
postor or  an  enthusiast ;  an  impostor,  if  he  know- 
ingly stated  an  untruth ;  an  enthusiast,  if  he  ever 
fancied  himself  to  be  appointed  as  a  sacrifice  and 
atonement  for  the  sins  of  mankind,  whilst  he  had 
no  claim  to  so  sublime  an  office.  But  his  whole 
character,  and  all  his  actions,  and  all  the  rest  of 
his  doctrines,  and  every  precept  which  he  deliver- 
ed, negative  at  once  the  insinuation  of  imposture 
and  enthusiasm.  He  preached  and  was  the  pat- 
tern of  every  virtue ;  he  performed  miracles ;  he 
foretold  future  events  ;  he  foretold  his  own  death, 
exactly  as  it  occurred ;  and  I  must,  therefore,  be- 
lieve that  his  death  was  what  he  represented  it 
to  be." 

"Well,  Dr.  Warton,"  he  said,  "suppose  we 
relinquish  this  charge  for  the  present.  I  should 
be  glad  to  know  whether  the  oriental  manner  of 


80  THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT. 

speaking  figuratively  will  not  account  for  a  great 
deal,  without  resorting  to  such  difficult  doctrines, 
which,  in  fact,  rest  upon  the  mere  letter.  In  the 
institution  of  the  sacrament,  for  instance,  which 
my  sister  has  just  mentioned,  you  dispute  against 
the  Roman  Catholics,  for  a  figurative  in  prefer- 
ence to  a  literal  meaning."  Then,  like  a  person 
pleased  with  a  new  thought,  which  he  imagines 
will  work  wonders,  he  added,  "  I  suspect,  that  if 
this  figurative  mode  of  speaking  be  well  consider- 
ed, it  would  enable  us  to  solve,  in  a  simple  man- 
ner, much  that  is  perplexing  to  the  intellect,  and 
revolting  to  our  most  deeply  rooted  feelings,  if 
taken  literally." 

•*  It  has  been  well  considered  long  ago,"  I  an- 
swered ;  "and  with  respect  to  the  prophetical  parts 
of  the  Bible,  which  are  most  figurative,  it  is  not 
difficult  to  establish  certain  rules,  by  which  the 
true  meaning  may  be  fixed.  Sometimes  the  pro- 
phecy itself  is  afterwards  explained,  as  our  Savior 
explained  his  parables  •  sometimes  one  part  of  a 
prophecy,  which  is  dark,  is  explained  by  another 
part  which  is  clear ;  sometimes,  again,  one  whole 
obscure  prophecy  is  illustrated  by  others  which 
are  less  so ;  and  there  are  various  ways  besides, 
which  might  be  mentioned,  if  it  were  necessary  to 
go  fully  into  the  subject.  You  may  conceive, 
therefore,  how  the  language  of  prophecy  comes  at 


THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT.  81 

length  to  be  pretty  well  understood :  but  with  re- 
spect to  the  doctrines  of  the  New  Testament,  the 
same  modes  are  not  so  applicable.  Indeed,  the 
expression  is  in  general  not  figurative,  but  per- 
fectly simple.  I  do  not  mean,  however,  that  one 
thing  does  not  help  to  explain  another ;  or  that 
parts  of  a  thing  may  not  help  to  explain  the  whole; 
but  only  that  no  general  rules  of  interpretation  can 
precisely  be  laid  down.  Take  an  example  from 
what  Mrs.  Harrison  suggested  to  us.  Our  Lord 
said,  that  no  man  could  be  saved  without  eating 
his  flesh  and  drinking  his  blood ;  and  this  appear- 
ed to  many  of  his  followers  to  be  a  doctrine  so 
hard  of  digestion,  that  they  absolutely  abandoned 
him  rather  than  embrace  it.  Yet  he  told  them, 
in  that  particular  case,  that  his  words  were  not  to 
be  interpreted  literally,  although  he  did  not  then 
tell  them  what  the  true  meaning  was.  And  per- 
haps we  should  never  have  known  it,  if  it  had  not 
been  afterwards  explained  by  the  institution  of  the 
sacrament  of  the  bread  and  wine,  which  he  called 
his  body  and  blood,  and  which  he  enjoined  us  all 
to  eat  and  drink,  in  memory  of  his  death,  to  the 
end  of  the  world.  Thus  every  difficulty  arising 
from  the  figurative  mode  of  expression  might  well 
be  supposed  to  have  been  entirely  cleared  away. 
But  the  Roman  Catholics  were  not  willing  to 
think  so,  and  they  will  still  have  that  to  be  literal. 


82  THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT. 

which  he  insinuated  to  be  spiritual,  or  figurative ; 
and  consequently,  they  invented,  and  continue  to 
uphold,  their  doctrine  of  transubstantiation,  to  ex- 
plain the  words,  'this  is  my  body,'  and  'this  is  my 
blood.'  Here,  however,  for  the  right  explanation 
of  these  expressions,  we  may  justly  refer  them  to 
the  innumerable  similar  forms  of  expression, 
which  are  undoubtedly  figurative ;  '  I  am  the 
vine ;'  '  I  am  the  gate,'  and  a  thousand  others. 
The  meaning  of  these  is  evident  at  once ;  and  I 
do  not  see  why  the  meaning  of  the  sacrament 
form  should  puzzle  any  body  more  than  they  do. 
"  Take  another  instance  of  a  doctrine  which 
has  been  also  previously  mentioned  ;  '  I  and  my 
Father  are  one.'  Viewing  this  in  the  abstract,  it 
might  mean,  first,  I  and  my  Father  are  one  Per- 
son ;  but  when  we  go  to  the  original,  and  observe 
that  the  expression  is  h  and  not  £k  we  give  up 
that  interpretation  at  once.  Next  then  it  must 
mean,  I  and  my  Father  are  one  thing ;  but  in 
what  sense  one  thing  ?  There  is  some  union  be- 
tween them  undoubtedly  ;  but  whether  a  union  of 
sentiment  only,  or  of  substance,  and  consequently 
of  sentiment  too,  we  cannot  decide  by  this  passage 
alone.  If  it  be  a  union  of  substance  which  we  of 
this  church  affirm,  then  the  expression  iv  is  lite- 
ral ;  if  it  be  a  union  of  sentiment  only,  the  expres- 
sion is  figurative  ;  and  we  cannot  decide  the  ques- 


THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT.  83 

tion,  without  a  comparison  of  this  passage  with 
others,  and,  perhaps,  not  without  a  large  view  of 
the  whole  gospel. 

"  You  will  perceive  hy  these  examples  that 
your  suggestion  has  been  attended  to,  when  the 
reason  of  the  thing  demands  it,  and  when  it  is 
warranted  by  the  rest  of  Scripture ;  but  in  the  case 
of  the  doctrine  of  the  atonement,  the  expressions 
seem  to  admit  but  of  a  single  meaning,  and  that 
the  literal  one.  Those  expressions  too  are  to  be 
met  with  perpetually.  The  very  word  '  ransom' 
defies,  I  think,  the  possibility  of  perversion,  and 
settles  the  question  for  ever.  '  He  gave  his  life  a 
ransom  for  many.'  How  can  you,  by  any  stretch 
of  ingenuity,  interpret  this  otherwise  than  that 
the  death  of  Christ  was  in  the  stead  of  the  death 
of  others?" 

"  That  is  a  very  strong  term,  certainly,"  he  re- 
plied, in  a  tone  of  moderation,  "  nor,  do  I  know 
how  to  rebut  your  interpretation  of  it ;  but  I  can- 
not so  easily  reconcile  myself  to  the  doctrine, 
which,  in  its  literal  sense,  it  implies.  After  all, 
however,  if  a  ransom  were  necessary,  or  expedi- 
ent, might  it  not  have  been  paid  by  a  mere  man, 
supposing  him  to  be  a  man  of  perfect  justice,  and 
one  who  fulfilled  the  whole  moral  law  of  virtue 
and  goodness !" 

"  Unfortunately,"  I  said, "  your  scheme  abounds 


84  THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT. 

with  insuperable  difficulties.  First,  where  will 
you  find  such  a  man?  The  world  never  produ- 
ced a  being  of  that  sort ;  and  there  is  an  end  of  the 
matter.  But,  secondly,  if  you  could  find  such  a 
person,  how  would  his  life  or  death  operate  as 
an  atonement  for  others?  Will  you  adopt  the 
Roman  Catholic  notion,  and  assume,  that  he  might 
perform  works  of  supererogation,  and  so  leave  be- 
hind him  an  abundant  stock  of  merit,  out  of  which 
the  deficiency  of  all  others  may  be  supplied  for 
ever  ?  No,  no  ;  this  is  too  ridiculous.  I  ask  you, 
is  not  every  man,  in  every  situation  in  which  he 
may  be  placed,  under  a  sort  of  moral  obligation,  to 
act  according  to  the  most  perfect  law  of  his  nature, 
or  according  to  the  best  light  which  he  enjoys?" 

He  allowed  it, 

"  Can  he  then,"  I  asked  again,  "do  more  than 
his  duty,  or  more  than  is  proper  and  right  for 
himself?" 

"  I  believe,"  he  answered,  "  that  I  must  grant 
he  cannot," 

"  Well,  then,"  I  said,  "  his  power  of  making 
an  atonement  for  others  is  quite  out  of  the  ques- 
tion. It  vanishes  at  once,  and  we  are  compelled 
to  resort  to  some  one,  who  is  more  than  man ;  to 
some  one,  who,  possessing  indeed  the  human  na- 
ture, and  executing  in  that  nature,  by  the  help  of  a 
divine  Spirit  residing  within  him,  every  particle  of 


THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT.  85 

the  moral  law  of  righteousness,  has  something  far 
greater  and  better  to  offer  for  the  fallen  race  of 
mankind,  to  propitiate  an  offended  God,  and  to  re- 
concile Him  to  them ;  even  the  transcendant,  un- 
speakable merit  of  a  Bemg,  who,  having  himself 
the  form  of  God,  hesitated  not  to  empty  himself  of 
all  his  eternal  splendor  and  glory,  to  hide  himself 
under  a  poor  degraded  vesture  of  mortal  flesh,  and 
to  submit  to  pain,  and  ignominy,  and  death ;  thus 
becoming  a  sacrifice,  infinite  in  value,  and  com- 
mensurate with  the  infinite  extent  of  sin.  O  what 
an  argument  for  love,  and  obedience,  on  our  parts ! 
O  what  a  pattern  of  condescension  and  humility, 
for  us  to  imitate  in  our  conduct  to  our  fellow  crea- 
tures !  But,  above  all,  what  a  lesson  of  awe  and 
fear  !  How  forcibly  calculated  to  inspire  us  with 
a  thorough  hatred  and  abhorrence  of  sin;  that 
monstrous  evil,  which  God  would  not,  or  could 
not  pardon,  without  a  sacrifice,  so  wonderfully,  so 
incomparably  great !" 

Just  at  this  moment  the  carriage  stopped  at  the 
Rectory,  and  so,  without  waiting  for  any  reply,  I 
jumped  out,  and  left  them. 

Reflecting  afterwards  upon  this  long  conver- 
sation, when  I  was  sitting  quietly  at  home,  in  the 
course  of  the  same  day,  I  could  not  but  flatter  my- 
self, that,  upon  the  whole,  great  good  had  been 


86  THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT. 

done.  That  he  was  convinced  upon  all  the 
branches  of  the  subject  which  he  had  discussed,  I 
was  far  from  thinking ;  but  that  his  mind  was  sa- 
tisfied upon  some  points,  and  his  opinions  shaken 
upon  others,  I  had  no  doubt  whatever.  With 
respect  to  a  real,  practical  repentance,  I  did  not  yet 
expect  it.  More  pain  and  suffering,  and  less  chance 
of  returning  to  the  world,  seemed  necessary  to 
wean  him  from  it  in  a  sufficient  degree  to  make  a 
solid  basis  for  an  effectual  change  of  his  heart  and 
affections.  But  things,  I  trusted,  were  in  the  right 
train,  if  it  might  please  God  to  prolong  his  life  for 
a  certain  period.  A  sudden  death,  however,  was 
to  be  feared ;  and  a  sudden  death  would  probably 
ruin  every  thing.  Under  all  these  circumstances, 
therefore,  delay  was  dangerous,  and  most  sedu- 
lously to  be  avoided  ;  yet  events  could  not  be  hast- 
ened, nor  opportunities  be  created  at  will. 

With  these  impressions,  I  called  very  early 
in  the  afternoon  of  the  following  day.  I  was  in- 
formed that  Mr.  Compton,  after  a  restless  night,  had 
got  up  late,  and  was  laid  as  usual  on  the  sofa,  and 
had  no  spirit  to  attempt  any  thing  else.  Orders, 
however,  had  been  given  that  no  visitors  should  be 
denied  admittance  to  him  ;  so  Mr.  Harrison,  with- 
out scruple,  conducted  me  to  him  at  once :  but  he 
was  unable  to  satisfy  my  curiosity  as  to  the  results 
of  yesterday.     Mr.    Compton,  he  said,  had  been 


THE    MAIN    AUGUMENT.  87 

very  silent  and  thoughtful  during  the  whole  even- 
ing after  his  return  from  the  drive,  and  had  made 
no  remark,  even  to  his  sister,  upon  the  conversa- 
tion which  had  passed,  although  she  tried  often  to 
lead  him  to  it.  Yet  it  was  evident  that  he  was 
fall  of  it,  and  that  his  mind  was  deeply  at  work 
upon  the  grave  matters  which  had  been  debated 
between  us.  Nor  had  night  and  solitude,  as  far 
as  Mr.  Harrison  could  ascertain,  afforded  any 
truce  to  his  troubled  thoughts. 

Being  hastily  informed  of  these  particulars  as 
we  ascended  the  staircase,  I  expressed  my  fears 
upon  first  seeing  him,  lest  yesterday's  ride  might 
have  been  too  much  for  his  strength ;  but  he  as- 
sured me  that  he  had  felt  no  unusual  iatigue  in 
consequence  of  it,  and  that,  as  for  sleepless 
nights,  they  were  his  almost  constant  companions  : 
♦'  and  I  hope,"  he  said,  "  that  I  have  profited  by 
the  last,  in  mind  at  least,  if  not  in  body."  Upon 
this  I  was  all  attention  to  hear  what  account  he 
would  give  of  himself,  and  without  doubt  he 
would  have  proceeded  to  gratify  my  eager  desire 
of  getting  to  the  bottom  of  his  feelings,  had  not  a 
servant  at  this  very  moment  announced  the  name 
of  Mr.  Langstone. 

"  Where  is  he  ?"  cried  Mr.  Compton. 

"  He  is  on  horseback  at  the  door,"  answered  the 
servant ;  "  and  he  bade  me  say,  Sir,  that  he  wish- 
ed very  much  to  see  y'^u." 


88  THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT. 

"Bj^  all  means,  then,  bring  him  up,"  said  Mr. 
Compton. 

"  But  what  shall  we  do  with  you,  Dr.  War- 
ton  ?"  he  added,  when  the  servant  had  disappeared. 
"Mr.  Langstone  is  rather  brisk  in  his  manners, 
and,  I  fear,  has  no  respect  for  the  clergy,  to  whose 
society  he  has  been  entirely  unaccustomed ;  and 
he  will  probably  assail  me  with  many  an  arrow 
out  of  his  quiver  of  raillery,  if  he  should  discover 
that  I  have  talked  so  much  of  late  with  you.  Will 
you  call  another  time,  or  will  you  step  into  the  ad- 
joining room,  and  wait  till  he  goes?" 

"  I  will  stay  where  I  am,"  I  replied,  "  if  you 
will  allow  me.  I  am  curious  to  see  this  redoubted 
knight,  and  perhaps  I  shall  break  a  lance  with 
him,     I  know  his  character  full  well." 

Mr.  Compton  was  rather  alarmed  when  he 
heard  my  determination ;  but  before  he  could 
attempt  to  change  it,  Mr.  Langstone  entered,  and 
exclaimed,  as  he  rapidly  approached  the  sofa, 
"  Well,  Compton,  how  are  you,  my  good  fellow  ? 
Better,  I  hope,  and  likely  to  be  amongst  us  again 
soon.  But  where  is  Laura,  'amata  nobis,  quan- 
tum amahitur  nulla  ?^^^  Mr.  Compton  held  out 
his  hand,  but  said  nothing.  He  was  vexed,  as  I 
supposed,  that  I  should  discover  with  what  sort  of 
persons,  and  how  he  had  spent  his  days ;  but  he 
evidently  feared  still  more  lest  he  should  be  cover- 


THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT.  89 

ed  with  shame,  when  his  weakness  in  admitting 
a  clergyman  to  converse  with  him  on  matters  of 
religion  should  become  known  to  this  blunt  and 
profligate  votary  of  pleasure.  And  that  Mr.  Lang- 
stone  would  both  blab  every  thing,  and  find  out 
every  thing,  he  had  little  doubt ;  so  heedless  was 
he  of  character,  and  so  likely  to  pester  him  with 
questions  about  Laura,  and  his  present  plans,  and 
what  not. 

Mr.  Langstone  grasped  Mr.  Compton's  hand, 
and  exclaimed  again,  "  What,  man,  not  a  word  to 
greet  ftie  after  two  month's  absence?  Not  a  word 
about  yourself?  No  Laura,  as  in  the  good  old 
times  ?" 

At  last  the  sick  man  said,  "  Oh,  Langstone,  I 
have  been  very  ill !  The  game  was  nearly  up, 
and  the  lamps  put  out !  I  totter  still  on  the  brink 
of  the  grave!" 

"  Come,  come,"  cried  the  other,  "  cheer  up, 
man!  you  w^ill  not  die  this  bout,  I  warrant  you." 

Then  suddenly  turning  round,  and  seeing 
Mr.  Harrison  and  me,  who  had  risen  upon  his  en- 
trance, and  had  not  reseated  ourselves,  "  What," 
he  said,  "  are  these  your  doctors  ?  why,  I  believe, 
I  have  dropped  in  upon  you  in  the  midst  of  a 
consultation.  Well,  gentlemen,  what  is  your 
opinion  of  my  friend's  case?" 

He  would  have  run  on,  but  seeing  us  look  very 
8* 


90  THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT. 

grave,  he  stopped  short  in  his  career,  and  Mr. 
Compton  immediately  said,  pointing  to  each  of  us 
in  succession,  "  That  is  Mr.  Harrison,  my  brother- 
in-law,  and  this  is  Dr.  Warton." 

Upon  this  Mr.  Langstone  bowed  slightly  to 
Mr.  Harrison,  and  when  I  was  prepared  for  the 
same  civility,  he  drawled  out  in  the  attitude  of  one 
thinking,  "  Dr.  Warton  7  Why,  is  not  Dr.  War- 
ton  the  parson  of  your  parish,  whom  we  used 

to I  beg  his  pardon;  the  rector  I  should 

have  called  him." 

"Oh!  it  does  not  matter.  Sir,"  I  said,  smiling; 
"  if  you  look  into  Blackstone,  you  will  find  that 
parson  is  the  more  honorable  title." 

And  then  addressing  myself  to  Mr.  Compton, 
I  told  him  that  his  friend,  Mr.  Langstone,  seemed 
to  expect  to  find  an  M.  D.  rather  than  a  D.  D.  by 
his  side ;  but  that  there  were  times,  perhaps,  when 
the  D.  D.  might  be  the  most  useful,  although  I 
hoped  that  in  his  case  the  M.  D.  might  be  useful  too. 

Mr.  Compton  shook  his  head,  and  said,  "  Well, 
well :  sit  down  all  of  you.  What  will  become  of 
me  is  very  doubtful.  But  I  must  introduce  you, 
Langstone,  to  Dr.  Warton.  If  he  were  not  pre- 
sent, I  would  describe  him  to  you." 

"  You  have  often  done  it,"  exclaimed  Lang 
stone  sneeringly,  and  interrupting  him.  "  Which 
description  am  I  to  abide  by,  that  of  Compton 


THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT.  91 

well,  or  that  of  Compton  sick  ?  That  of  the  cour- 
ageous or  that  of  the  timorous  Compton  ?  That 
of  the  enemy  or  that  of  the  slave  to  superstition?" 

This  was  a  difficult  attack  for  Mr.  Compton 
to  parry.  It  disconcerted  and  abashed  him, 
and  the  more  so,  because  he  had  been  every  mo- 
ment in  expectation  of  it,  and  he  was  yet  too  much 
of  a  novice  in  the  ways  of  religion  to  withstand 
even  a  single  sarcasm.  The  seed  had  fallen  up- 
on ground  which  lacked  moisture  and  depth  of 
soil,  and  therefore  was  too  likely  to  wither  away 
upon  the  first  attack  of  heat. 

With  the  hope  of  being  able  to  throw  a  shield 
before  him,  I  interposed  and  said,  "  It  is  no  won- 
der, if  men  see  things  with  a  different  eye  in  sick- 
ness and  in  health;  nor  does  it  follow  that  the 
courage  which  health  inspires,  is  a  wise  courage, 
or  the  fear  which  is  inspired  by  sickness  a  foolish 
fear.  Another  thing,  too,  I  have  generally  ob- 
served— ^that  the  enemies  of  true  religion  are  the 
greatest  slaves  to  superstition.  Have  you  none  of 
these,  Mr.  Langstone,  amongst  your  own  acquaint- 
ance? Mr.  Compton,  I  dare  say,  has  ridiculed 
me  often  under  other  circumstances.  I  beg  he 
will  make  no  excuses  about  it.  His  change  of 
conduct  is  the  best  apology ;  and  I  trust  that  he 
will  have  no  cause  to  regret,  but  every  cause  to 
rejoice,  in  that  change.     If  his  fears  have  wrought 


92  THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT. 

upon  him,  I  admire  and  applaud  his  present  fears 
more  than  his  former  courage.  I  will  venture  to 
use  a  strong  term :  his  former  courage  was  no- 
thing but  fool-hardihood.  The  approach  of  death 
is  terrible  to  all.  What  must  it  be  to  one  who 
knows  not  whither  he  is  going  ?  It  has  pleased 
God,  merciful  in  the  midst  of  severity,  to  show 
Mr.  Compton  his  irresistible  power,  without  strik- 
ing him  to  the  ground  ;  and  Mr.  Compton  has  the 
wisdom  to  look  to  the  hand  which  inflicts  the 
blow  with  awe  and  fear;  and  to  reflect  within 
himself,  and  to  advise  with  persons  of  supposed 
competence  (with  the  parson,  if  you  will,)  upon 
the  steps  which  are  to  be  taken  by  one  in  his  pre- 
carious condition.  It  is  too  desperate  a  plunge  to 
be  made  blindfold.  So  thought  Lord  Rochester — 
one  of  the  wittiest  and  most  profligate  of  men, 
whilst  his  courage,  as  you  call  it,  supported  him ; 
but,  at  length,  when  assailed  by  the  King  of  Ter- 
rors, a  willing,  and  a  patient,  and  a  humble  listener 
to  the  arguments  and  the  counsels  of  a  Christian 
bishop." 

Thus  I  spoke,  with  very  little  idea  of  pro- 
ducing any  good  effect  upon  Mr.  Langstone,  but 
with  the  greatest  of  doing  good  to  Mr.  Compton  ; 
into  whom  I  endeavored  to  infuse  right  sentiments 
by  a  sidewind,  as  it  were,  and  by  assuming  that  he 
acted  on  the  principles  which  I  conceived  to  be 


THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT.  93 

proper  for  him.  He  made  no  remark ;  nor  did 
Mr.  Langstone  at  once.  All  he  did  at  first  was 
to  stare  with  astonishment;  sometimes  at  me, 
sometimes  at  Mr.  Compton,  sometimes  at  Mr. 
Harrison.  But  very  soon  suspecting  by  our 
countenances,  I  suppose,  that  we  were  all  in  ear- 
nest, and  all  of  the  same  opinion,  he  exclaimed, 
"  Upon  my  honor,  Dr.  Warton,  it  makes  no  dif- 
ference to  you,  I  perceive,  whether  you  are  in  or 
out  of  your  pulpit,  or  with  or  without  your  sur- 
plice. You  can  preach  equally  well  in  any  place, 
and  in  any  garb.  But  as  you  mention  that  fel- 
low Rochester — that  most  cowardly  of  all  pol- 
troons, that  base  betrayer  and  belier  of  his  own 
principles,  of  the  principles  of  his  whole  life — I 
must  tell  you,  that  Compton  and  I  have  long  ago 
made  up  our  minds  about  his  character  ;  and  that 
we  thoroughly  despise  him,  mean  wretch  as  he 
was!" 

The  acrimony  and  the  malignity  with  which 
Mr.  Langstone  uttered  this  philippic  against  Lord 
Rochester  are  quite  indescribable.  He  almost 
gnashed  his  teeth  with  rage;  and  whilst  the 
storm  lasted,  none  of  us  attempted  to  speak ;  but 
having  had  its  vent,  it  soon  subsided ;  and  he  re- 
sumed in  a  milder  tone, 

"  No,  no.  Sir !  we  shall  not  imitate  this  hero 
of  yours,  whom  the  men  of  your  black  cloth  are 


94  THE    MAIN     ARGUMENT. 

SO  fond  of  quoting ;  Ave  are  made  of  firmer  stuff — 
I  and  Compton ;  we  have  none  of  those  woman- 
ish fears." 

"  God  only  knows,"  I  said,  with  solemnity, 
'  God  only  know^s,  who  shall  be  indulged  and 
blessed  with  the  opportunity  of  imitating  Lord 
Rochester !  They  who  wish  for  it,  may  wish  for 
it  too  late ;  they  who  seek  after  it,  may  seek  too 
late;  and  they  who  disdain  the  thought  of  it, 
must  abide  the  perilous  issue.  It  is  throwing  the 
dice  for  their  lives:  or  rather,  I  should  say,  for 
their  souls!"  Then  relaxing  into  a  different 
tone,  I  continued  thus :  "  But  why,  Mr.  Lang- 
stone,  should  you  make  so  sure  of  Mr.  Compton's 
opinions  on  this  point  ?  A  wise  man  changes  his 
opinions  according  to  circumstances,  and  as  new 
light  breaks  in  upon  him.  May  not  Mr.  Compton, 
therefore,  think  differently  now  of  Lord  Rochester 
from  what  he  did  formerly,  in  the  same  manner, 
as  it  is  plain  by  your  seeing  me  here,  that  he 
thinks  differently  of  me  ?" 

"  Nothing  is  too  absurd  to  happen,"  he  cried 
indignantly ;  "  why  Compton  has  you  here  by 
his  side,  he  can  best  explain.  Neither  he  nor  I 
had  any  personal  dislike  to  you,  Dr.  Warton  ;  for 
we  had  no  acquaintance  with  you  whatever.  It 
is  the  genus,  not  the  individual,  against  which  we 
bear  arms,  and  would  emancipate  mankind,  if  we 


THE  MAIN   ARGUMENT.  95 

could,  from  their  leading-strings.  I  tell  you  this 
fairly  and  openly ;  I  am  not  a  man  of  conceal- 
ment. Oh,  what  mischiefs  has  Christianity  pro- 
duced in  the  world!  and  the  clergy  alone  bolster 
it  up  from  falling !  They  have  bestridden  us,  and 
kept  us  in  disgraceful  subjection  for  ages.  But 
with  respect  to  Rochester,  the  foolish  story  about 
him  pretends  to  tell  us,  that  the  prophecies,  for- 
sooth, converted  him.  Truly,  if  it  were  so,  the 
man's  intellect  must  have  been  turned  topsy-turvy, 
as  I  rather  indeed  suspect ;  for  never  was  there 
such  a  farrago  of  nonsense  as  those  self-styled 
prophecies.  I  and  Compton  examined  them 
together.  Dr.  Warton ;  and  I  know  he  agrees  with 
me,  that  they  are  a  heap  of  confusion,  a  mass  of 
unintelligible,  unconnected,  incoherent  rhapsodies 
— darker  than  the  darkest  oracles  of  the  heathens 
themselves.  If  Rochester's  conversion  arose 
from  these,  Compton,  I  am  confident,  can  never 
agree  with  him,  or  stoop  to  the  same  degradation." 
Thus  he  went  on,  in  his  own  peculiar,  dogmatical 
style,  unused  to  contradiction,  and  expecting  to 
bear  down  all  before  him. 

"  I  am  afraid,  Mr.  Langstone,"  I  said  coolly,  in 
reply,  "  that  you  have  not  given  yourself  sufficient 
time  to  study  the  prophecies.  May  I  be  permitted 
to  ask,  whether  you  understand  the  original  lan- 
guage in  which  they  were  written?" 


96  THE  MAIN  ARGUMENT. 

"What,  the  Hebrew?  Not  I,  indeed,"  he 
answered  petulantly. 

"  But,"  I  asked  again,  "  you  have  read,  I  pre- 
sume, some  or  all  of  the  great  commentators,  who 
have  explained  the  prophecies?" 

"  I  read  those  musty  folios  and  quartos !"  he 
replied,  as  before.  "  No,  in  truth,  I  have  not  been 
guilty  of  such  a  waste  of  my  eyes  and  my  time, 
which  have  been  better  employed." 

"Well,  Mr.  Langstone,"  I  said,  "but  you  have 
looked  at  least  into  Lowth's  translation  of  Isaiah, 
which  is  neither  musty  by  age,  nor  ponderous  in 
size,  for  it  may  be  had  in  the  convenient  and  invit- 
ing shape  of  an  octavo  ?" 

He  now  became  seriously  angry  upon  being 
convicted  of  having  taken  no  pains  to  understand 
what  he  had  so  harshly  condemned ;  and  he, 
therefore,  asserted,  with  the  greater  positiveness 
and  obstinacy,  that  "  it  would  be  the  most  absurd 
thing  imaginable  to  sit  down  to  study  that  which 
no  study  could  render  intelligible." 

"  But  Lowth,"  I  said,  "  and  many  of  the  other 
translators  and  commentators,  were  men  of  im- 
mense learning,  and  prodigious  talents,  were  they 
not?" 

"  They  may  be,"  he  replied,  "  for  what  I  know 
to  the  contrary.  One  thing  I  am  sure  of,  that  I  shall 
never  trouble  myself  to  discover  their  blunders." 


THE  MAIN  ARGUMENT.  97 

"  Well,"  I  said,  "  whether  they  blundered  or 
not,  at  least  they  must  have  supposed  that  the 
prophecies  were  capable  of  being  made  intelligible, 
by  the  help  of  translations,  of  notes,  of  commenta- 
ries, of  criticisms,  of  paraphrases,  of  dissertations. 
Do  not  their  very  labors  prove  this  ?" 

"  It  matters  not  one  hair  what  they  supposed," 
he  answered  impatiently ;  "  I  stick  to  plain  com- 
mon sense,  out  of  which  I  shall  never  be  argued. 
Besides,  was  not  Lowth  advanced  to  the  rank  and 
wealth  of  a  bishop?  His  evidence,  therefore,  is 
interested,  and  must  be  set  aside.  I  suspect  there 
are  few  of  his  cloth  who  would  not  attempt  to  prove 
that  black  is  white  for  the  sake  of  a  bishopric." 

"Set  him  aside,  then,"  I  said,  "at  once  and 
without  scruple,  as  well  as  all  the  rest  of  his  fra- 
ternity. But  there  was  one  Newton,  who  wrote 
a  dissertation  upon  the  prophecies ;  not  the  emi- 
nent bishop  of  that  name,  who  also  wrote  upon 
the  same  subject,  but  a  much  more  eminent  man — 
indeed  the  most  eminent,  perhaps,  whom  the 
world  had  seen,  Sir  Isaac  I  mean :  that  illustrious 
mathematician,  who  dived  into  the  depth  of  Na- 
ture, and  ascended  victorious  up  to  Nature's  God ; 
a  layman  too ;  no  candidate  for  rich  pluralities,  or 
bishoprics ;  simple-minded,  like  a  child,  but  in 
power  of  reasoning,  mighty  as  a  giant ;  in  grasp 
of  intellect,  sublime  as  an  angel ;  what  shall  we 
9 


98  THE   MAIN   ARGUMENT. 

do  with  Aim  ?  Shall  we  set  him  aside  also,  as  a 
hypocrite,  or  an  idiot ;  or  shall  we  not  rather  bow, 
as  to  a  superior  being-,  who  bent  the  whole  force 
of  his  vast  and  comprehensive  genius  to  the  ex- 
planation of  the  works  and  the  word  of  God  alike?" 

Mr  Langstone  not  seeming  to  know  exactly 
how  to  dispose  of  Newton,  Mr.  Compton  inter- 
posed and  said,  "  We,  who  stand  up  for  reason, 
Langstone,  must  take  care  to  have  reason  on 
our  side,  and  not  to  go  against  her.  We  cannot, 
therefore,  deny  the  great  authority  of  Newton ; 
who  must  have  thought  the  prophecies  capable  of 
being  explained,  and  also  of  high  consequence,  or 
he  would  never  have  interrupted  his  mathematical 
pursuits,  which  brought  him  so  much  glory,  for 
the  sake  of  attending  to  those  prophecies.  But 
certainly,  Dr.  Warton,  upon  a  cursory  view  of 
them,  they  did  appear  to  wc,  as  my  friend  Lang- 
stone has  just  stated,  very  obscure,  very  incohe- 
rent, and  generally  unintelligible.  However,  there 
is  no  wonder  that  men  attached  to  Christian^ 
ity,  whether  from  laudable  or  blameable  motives, 
should  attempt  to  explain  them;  for  Christianity 
cannot  stand  without  them." 

"  Very  true,"  exclaimed  Mr.  Langstone,  some- 
what relieved  by  the  latter  part  of  Mr.  Compton's 
speech :  "  this  accounts  perfectly  for  all  the  mis 
placed  labors  of  so  many  bigots;    but  the  pro- 


THE   MAIN   ARGUMENT.  99 

phecies  are  lame  legs  for  any  thing-  to  stand 
upon." 

"  It  is  the  more  marvellous,  then,"  I  said,  "  that 
Christianity  has  stood  so  long  upon  such  a  rotten 
foundation,  and  seems  likely  to  stand  to  the  end  of 
time.  But  how  do  you  assert  that  Christianity  can- 
not stand  without  the  prophecies,  Mr.  Compton?" 

"  I  mean,"  he  answered,  "  that  the  evidence  of 
prophecy,  be  it  what  it  may,  is  relied  upon  as  one 
of  the  strongest." 

"  A  revelation  from  God,"  I  said,  "  abstractedly 
speaking,  requires  not  to  be  attested  by  evidence 
of  any  particular  sort.  All  that  is  absolutely 
necessary  is,  that  it  should  be  attested  by  sufficient 
evidence  of  some  sort  or  other.  Now,  miracles 
do  this  for  Christianity ;  and,  therefore,  all  other 
evidences,  and  prophecies  amongst  the  rest,  might 
appear  to  be  ex  abundanti,  and  supererogatory; 
and,  consequently,  not  worthy  of  all  that  learning 
and  talent  vi^hich  have  been  expended  upon  them. 
But  the  fact  is,  that  Jesus  Christ  himself  appealed 
to  the  prophecies  in  proof  of  his  being  the  Mes- 
siah, and  therefore  we  are  bound  to  search  the 
prophecies,  to  try  his  pretensions  by  his  own  test, 
and  to  see  whether  his  appeal  be  founded  in  truth. 
If  he  had  claimed  to  be  simply  a  divine  Messen- 
ger, miracles  would  have  been  enough  for  him ; 
but  he  claimed  to  be  the  Messiah,  a   particular 


100  THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT, 

divine  Messenger,  supposed  to  be  promised  and 
described  in  the  prophecies;  and,  therefore,  we 
must  of  necessity  look  into  those  prophecies,  to 
ascertain  whether  he  corresponds  to  the  descrip- 
tion there  given  of  the  Messiah,  or  not;  and  if  w^e 
find  no  traces  of  him  there,  then,  indeed,  his  re- 
ligion cannot  stand.  It  is  important  to  understand 
this  matter  rightly,  and  therefore  I  have  tried  to 
place  it  on  the  proper  footing." 

Mr.  Harrison  had  been  hitherto  silent,  but  at 
this  point  of  the  discussion  he  interfered  very  op- 
portunely, and  said,  "  I  am  sure  we  ought  all  of 
us  to  be  much  obliged  to  Dr.  Warton,  for  his  clear 
account  of  the  only  way  in  which  the  prophecies 
become  an  essential  evidence  of  Christianity.  I 
confess,  at  all  events,  however,  for  myself,  that  the 
subject  had  not  struck  me  precisely  in  this  light 
before,  and  I  am  glad  to  be  better  informed.  But, 
then,  now  comes  the  great  question,  whether  there 
are,  indeed,  to  be  found  in  the  prophecies  intelli- 
gible traces  of  such  a  person  as  Jesus  Christ  act- 
ually was,  in  all  the  leading  circumstances  of  his 
history;  or  whether  every  thing  in  those  pro- 
phecies relating  to  the  Jewish  Messiah  be  not  so 
vague,  and  indefinite,  and  obscure,  as  to  defy  such 
an  application,  without  being  wrested  and  tortur- 
ed unreasonably  for  the  very  purpose.  I  am 
aware  that  the  best  and  the  greatest  of  men,  of  the 


THE    MAIN     ARGUMENT.  101 

laity  as  well  as  of  the  clergy,  have  decided  for 
themselves  in  the  first  affirmative ;  and  to  their 
authority  I  most  willingly  submit  myself,  being 
incompetent,  with  my  own  unassisted  powers,  to 
enter  deeply  enough  into  the  investigation ;  and 
Mr.  Langstone  must  excuse  me,  if  I  say,  that  I 
think  his  charges  against  the  prophecies,  thrown 
out  at  random,  and  in  the  absence  of  all  proof  of 
sufficient  inquiry,  are  by  no  means  weighty  enough 
to  be  set  in  the  scale  against  the  combined,  accu- 
mulated judgment  of  the  very  soundest  judges  in 
the  world.  But  nevertheless,  I  presume  you  will 
allow.  Dr.  Warton,  that  the  prophecies  are  dark 
and  obscure ;  and  if  so,  I  should  be  gratified  with 
hearing  how  you  account  for  it." 

This  quiet  and  discreet  way  of  arguing  the 
question,  and  of  asking  for  further  information, 
was  admirably  adapted  to  Mr.  Compton's  situation, 
and  conducted  him  gently  to  the  point  where  we 
wished  to  lead  him;  but  it  did  not  appear  that 
Mr.  Langstone's  abrupt,  and  hasty,  and  decisive 
asseverations  against  Christianity,  were  any  impe- 
diment to  us.  Mr.  Compton  was  conscious,  no 
doubt,  that  he  had  been  used  to  speak  in  the  same 
manner  himself,  and  he  knew  also  with  what  little 
grounds  of  reason  he  had  done  so.  Besides,  he 
was  probably  now  shocked  in  some  degree  at  Mr. 
Langstone's,  ungentlemanly  tone,  which  would 
9* 


102  THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT. 

have  passed  unnoticed  before,  in  the  midst  of  their 
revels,  or,  perhaps,  would  have  obtained  his  ap- 
plause. It  was  by  such  violence  of  assertion  and 
declamation  that  they  formerly  upheld  one  another 
in  their  infidel  sentiments :  and  it  was  not  at  the 
gaming-table,  or  in  the  company  of  such  as  Laura, 
that  they  were  likely  to  acquire  the  softer  tones  of 
polished  life.  Yet  he  would  not  go  so  far  as  to 
check  him  pointedly.  In  fact,  he  was  struggling 
between  the  false  shame  of  being  called  an  apos- 
tate from  opinions  which  he  had  maintained  with 
the  same  vehemence  as  Mr.  Langstone,  and  the 
better  conviction  which  began  at  length  to  take 
hold  of  his  mind.  The  conflict  was  not  yet  finish- 
ed, but  as  he  had  withstood  the  first  brunt  of  it, 
the  final  issue  was  the  less  to  be  feared. 

As  for  Mr.  Langstone  himself,  I  could  not 
easily  account  to  my  own  mind  why  he  remained 
a  moment  longer  with  us,  when  he  saw  that  two 
of  the  party  had  no  value  whatever  for  his  author- 
ity ;  and  when  he  had  also  some  reason  to  suspect 
that  even  his  bosom  friend,  Mr.  Compton,  did  not 
prize  it  as  he  had  formerly  done.  It  was  manifest, 
that  none  of  us  would  admit  any  thing  upon  his 
mere  ipse  dixit,  or  mistake  bold  calumniations  for 
sound  arguments ;  and  that  we  should  try  every 
sentence  which  he  might  utter,  not  bj^  the  uncer- 
tain rule  of  his  own  passions  and  prejudices,  or  by 


THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT.  103 

the  false  logic  of  his  school,  but  by  the  sure  crite- 
rion of  truth.  But  it  is  a  rare  thing  for  a  man  of 
his  stamp  to  submit  to  such  trammels.  Mr.  Comp- 
ton  had  done  it  reluctantly :  although  chastened 
by  affliction,  and  alarmed  by  the  fear  of  death, 
and  pressed  by  his  sister,  for  whom  he  had  a  great 
regard,  to  confer  with  his  pastor  upon  the  evi- 
dences and  doctrines  of  the  gospel.  It  might  be 
that  Mr.  Langstone  considered  himself  bound  to 
await  the  termination  of  a  discussion  which  he 
alone  had  provoked ;  or  that  he  might  still  enter- 
tain the  hope  to  avert  by  some  lucky  turn  the  dis- 
grace which  impended  over  his  fraternity,  if  Mr. 
Compton  should  desert  them:  or,  perhaps,  his 
confidence  was  not  a  whit  abated  by  the  moderate 
rebukes  which  he  had  yet  received ;  or,  after  all, 
he  might  only  stay,  because  he  wished  for  an  op- 
portunity of  being  alone  with  Mr.  Compton,  and 
of  sifting  him  with  respect  to  his  future  intentions, 
and  the  rumored  changes  in  his  mode  of  life. 

Be  this  as  it  may,  my  own  line  was  obvious 
before  me.  It  was  evidently  my  business  to  bear, 
without  shrinking,  whatever  might  arise;  to  be 
calm  and  patient  under  the  reproaches  that  might 
be  cast  upon  my  profession  and  office,  and  not  to 
return  any  personal  disrespect  shown  to  myself 
I  had  now  involved  myself  with  Mr.  Compton, 
and  appeared  to  be  in  the  way  of  obtaining  some 


104  THE     MAIN     ARGUMENT. 

great  advantage,  which  it  would  be  very  impolitic 
to  sacrifice,  or  put  to  the  hazard,  from  the  want  of 
exercising  a  certain  degree  of  forbearance  towards 
his  friend,  or  from  thinking  that  conceit,  ill-humor, 
and  petulance,  should  be  met  and  resisted  with  a 
similar  spirit. 

These  reflections  flashed  across  my  mind  before 
I  replied  to  Mr.  Harrison's  proposition ;  but  they 
occupied  a  few  moments  only,  so  that  the  pause 
was  scarcely  sensible,  and  then  I  said,  "  You  con- 
sider the  prophecies  to  be  obscure,  Mr.  Harrison ; 
and  Mr.  Langstone  has  pronounced  the  same  opin- 
ion in  the  strongest  terms.  You  have  heard  no 
doubt  of  Porphyry." 

"I  have,"  said  Mr.  Harrison.  "He  was  an 
early  and  inveterate  enemy  to  Christianity." 

"  Yes,"  added  Mr.  Langstone,  "  and  he  was  a 
man  of  no  mean  ability ;  keen  and  shrewd,  with 
an  eye  to  pierce  through  every  deceit  and  disguise. 
Flourishing  too,  as  he  did,  in  remote  antiquity,  he 
saw  the  beginnings  closer  at  hand,  and  could, 
therefore,  survey  things  with  more  accuracy.  His 
opinion  is  of  the  greatest  weight." 

Having  thus  quietly  permitted  Mr.  Langstone 
to  run  himself  down  by  his  own  impetuosity,  I  re- 
sumed and  «aid,  "  Very  well ;  Porphyry  may  be 
all,  and  more  than  you  tell  me;  but,  what  is  to 
our  present  purpose,  he  difl^ered  from  you  entirely 


THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT.  105 

with  respect  to  the  prophecies.  Instead  of  think- 
ing them  dark,  and  obscure,  and  indefinite,  on  the 
very  contrary,  he  thought  them  so  clear  and  precise 
in  their  application,  especially  those  of  Daniel,  that 
he  courageously  maintained,  against  the  utmost  pos- 
sible certainty  itself,  that  they  were  written  subse- 
quently to  the  events  which  they  pretend  to  foretell." 

"  And  pray,  Dr.  Warton,"  interposed  Mr. 
Langstone,  "  how  is  it  so  certain  that  they  were 
not  written  after  the  events,  as  Porphyry  so  inge- 
niously supposed?" 

Here  was  a  happy  and  admirable  specimen  of 
the  turnings,  and  windings,  and  rapid  transitions 
of  a  sceptic  and  free-thinker.  In  a  moment  he 
left  his  former  position,  without  blushing,  to  shift 
for  itself,  and  eagerly  caught  at  something  else 
which  held  out  the  shadow  of  a  more  favorable 
issue.  However,  I  met  him  on  his  new  ground, 
and  told  him,  without  being  discomposed,  that  it 
was  certain ;  first,  because  the  whole  of  the  Old 
Testament  was  known  to  have  been  translated 
into  the  Greek  language,  by  order  of  one  of  the 
Ptolemies,  about  two  hundred  years  before  the 
Christian  era,  which  version  we  now  possess  un- 
der the  name  of  the  Septuagint ;  and,  secondly,  be- 
cause the  prophecies  were  always  in  the  custody  of 
the  Jews,  who,  being  hostile  to  Christianity,  would 
never  admit  any  thing  to  be  dishonestly  introduced 


106  THE   MAIS   argu:ment. 

into  them  which  might  favor  it.  Then  I  said, 
"  Observe  now  how  completely  Porphyry  is  at 
variance  with  you.  He  brought  forward  this 
strano^est  and  most  untenable  of  all  charsres 
against  the  prophecies,  in  order  to  get  rid  at  once 
of  the  argument  from  prophecy ;  and  his  charge 
is  founded  upon  their  supposed  clearness,  whereas 
you  affirm  that  they  are  so  obscure  as  to  be  quite 
unintelligible.  But  the  fact  is,  that  the  truth,  as  is 
generally  the  case,  lies  between  the  two  extremes, 
namely,  that  they  are  not  so  obscure  as  to  be  un- 
intelligible after  the  events,  nor  so  clear  as  to  be  in- 
telligible before  them.  I  do  not  mean  that  there 
will  not  always  be  room  for  dispute  in  a  variety 
of  ways,  and,  in  the  case  of  some  particular  pro- 
phecies, even  as  to  their  fulfilment;  but  1  say  this, 
that  prophecy  accomplishes  its  object,  if  it  be  clear 
enough  beforehand  to  excite  hopes  and  expecta- 
tions of  fulfilment,  and  clear  enough  afterwards 
to  satisfy  unprejudiced  minds  that  the  fulfilment 
has  really  taken  place.  A  certain  degree  of  ob- 
scurity, meanwhile,  is  absolutely  necessary  before- 
hand to  the  accomplishment  of  this  object,  for  you 
will  not,  I  presume,  contend,  that  it  should  be  mani- 
fest at  once,  upon  the  delivery  of  the  prophecy,  ex- 
actly what  the  event  is  to  be,  and  precisely  when 
it  is  to  occur,  and  what  are  all  the  instruments  to 
be  employed   in   bringing   it    about.     This   you 


THE    MAIN     ARGUMENT.  107 

would  not  expect,  nor  therefore  complain  of  the 
want  of  it.  You  could  only  debate  about  the  de- 
gree, and  what  degree  of  obscurity  should  still 
remain,  if  any  at  all  should  remain,  after  the  fulfil- 
ment of  the  prophecy,  may  admit  of  debate  also ; 
but  certainly  if  no  obscurity  were  to  remain,  faith 
would  be  at  an  end.  We  should  have  perfect  de- 
monstration instead  of  the  highest  probability ;  and 
therefore  we  should  be  entirely  without  any  pre- 
tence of  desert  of  any  sort  in  believing,  or  rather 
we  should  be  like  those  who  have  believed  because 
they  have  seen,  and  have  therefore  no  promise  of 
any  blessing  attached  to  their  conduct." 

I  expected  to  have  been  interrupted  again  and 
again  during  this  long  explanation  ;  but  Mr.  Lang- 
stone  had  been  rather  disconcerted,  and  his  keen 
edge  perhaps  somewhat  blunted,  by  his  having 
praised  Porphyry  so  warmly,  without  being  aware 
that  his  evidence  was  to  be  turned  against  him. 
However,  he  was  silent  even  when  I  had  finished, 
and  waited,  I  suppose,  for  some  better  opportunity 
of  attack.  Mr.  Harrison,  I  saw  plainly,  was  pre- 
pared to  approve  and  commend,  most  probably 
with  sincerity,  but  at  all  events  diplomatically, 
with  a  view  to  the  benefit  of  Mr.  Compton ;  but 
before  he  began  what  he  intended  to  say,  Mr. 
Compton  himself  replied  to  me. 

"Your  theory.  Dr.  Warton,"  he  said,  "must 


108  THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT. 

needs  be  allowed  to  be  a  probable  one.  If  what 
are  called  the  prophecies  be  really  prophecies,  no 
doubt  there  should  be  such  a  mixture  of  clearness 
and  obscurity  about  them  as  you  mention,  in  order 
to  effect  the  purpose  for  which  they  must  be  sup- 
posed to  be  intended.  But,  in  point  of  fact,  is  this 
the  case?  Can  it  be  satisfactorily  made  out  by 
history  or  any  well-known  circumstances  ?" 

"  It  can,"  I  answered ;  "  in  consequence  of 
these  very  prophecies,  which,  if  we  were  to  read 
cursorily  and  partially,  without  any  knowledge  of 
the  Hebrew  language,  and  without  the  help  of 
commentators,  we  might  be  tempted  to  pronounce 
an  indigested  mass  of  crudities  (setting  aside,  how- 
ever, for  the  present,  the  astonishing  magnificence 
and  sublimity  of  numerous  particular  passages ;) 
in  consequence,  I  repeat  it,  of  these  very  prophe- 
cies, the  Jews  did  actually  expect  some  extraordi- 
nary person  to  appear  amongst  them ;  and,  what 
is  more,  they  were  in  expectation  of  him  about  the 
time  when  Jesus  Christ  appeared.  This  is  no 
ipse  dixit  of  mine,  invented  for  the  occasion ;  it  is 
attested  by  the  Scriptures  and  by  profane  authors. 
And  this  expectation  was  not  confined  to  the 
Jews,  but  extended  to  other  nations,  through  the 
medium,  no  doubt,  of  the  Jewish  Scriptures. 
Tacitus  and  Suetonius  mention  the  expectation  as 
prevailing  throughout  the  East  from  ancient  times- 


THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT.  109 

'  Percrebuit  toto  Orienie  veius  opinio.^  You  wish 
for  facts;  what  stronger  fact  can  you  have  than 
this,  that  the  Jews,  on  the  ground  of  this  expecta- 
tion, undertook  that  desperate  w^ar  against  the 
Romans,  which  ended  in  the  destruction  of  their 
city  and  temple,  and  in  their  own  dispersion 
throughout  the  world?  For  this  irrefragable  evi- 
dence, I  refer  you  to  the  Roman  authors  w^hom  I 
have  already  mentioned,  and  to  the  Jew  Josephus, 
not  one  of  whom  ever  became  a  Christian.  Be 
the  prophecies  then  as  obscure  as  they  may,  they 
were  clear  enough  to  raise  the  expectation  which 
was  designed,  but  not  so  clear  as  to  prevent  the 
possibility,  when  the  Messiah  came,  of  all  cavil- 
ling and  disputing  about  his  being  the  person  in- 
tended by  those  prophecies.  To  me,  indeed,  it 
seems  astonishing,  that  the  Jews  should  ever  have 
doubted  about  it  at  all ;  but  the  explanation  of  this 
fact,  relied  upon  by  learned  men,  cannot  but  be 
satisfactory  to  those  w^ho  examine  it.  However, 
at  this  distance  of  time,  we  possess  an  advantage 
in  estimating  the  question  Avhich  the  Jews  of  the 
Messiah's  time  could  not  have,  namely,  the  estab- 
lishment of  the  Christian  religion,  which  proves 
incontestably  that  Jesus  was  the  Christ." 

"  Certainly,"  said  Mr.  Harrison,  "  as  the  pro- 
phecies all  along  represent  the  Messiah  to  be  the 
author  of  a  new  covenant  founded  upon  the  old 
10 


110  THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT. 

one,  and  as  Jesus  Christ,  claiming  to  be  that  Mes- 
siah, and  accompanied  with  miraculous  powers, 
promulgated  a  religion,  which,  against  all  human 
probabilities,  soon  established  itself  in  the  world, 
and  exists  in  great  veneration  at  this  day,  and 
seems  to  be  diffusing  itself  more  and  more  daily ; 
this  is  a  fact,  which  is  a  wonderful  evidence  of  the 
truth  of  his  pretensions." 

Here  Mr.  Langstone,  interrupting  him,  ex- 
claimed sarcastically,  "  Then  Mahomet,  most  like- 
ly, is  another  Messiah,  for  he  too  was  the  founder 
of  a  new  religion,  which  is  widely  received,  and 
highly  venerated  by  its  own  votaries;  and,  by-the- 
bye,  I  now  remember,  that  the  Jews  themselves 
talk  of  two  Messiahs,  a  triumphant,  and  a  suffer- 
ing Messiah  ;  and  surely  Mahomet  may  be  truly 
called  the  triumphant  one,  for  he  triumphed  by 
the  sword,  as  well  as  by  arguments,  over  the  re- 
ligion established  by  the  other,  and  subdued  many 
nations  which  supported  it.  What  think  you, 
Dr.  Warton,  of  this  impromptu  theory  of  mine?" 

"  I  will  not  condemn  it,"  I  said,  "because  it  is 
an  impromptu,  although  I  am  in  the  habit  of  ad- 
miring the  slow-grown  fruits  of  meditation  more 
than  the  hasty  births  of  a  random  thought ;  but  it 
is  plain  that  your  theory  does  not  accord  with  Mr, 
Harrison's  conditions,  much  less  with  all  the  con- 
ditions which  might  have  been  justly  proposed. 


THE     MAIN     ARGUMENT.  Ill 

Mahomet  was  no  Jew  himself,  and  never  claimed 
to  be  the  Messiah  of  the  Jews,  and  set  up  no  pre- 
tence to  miraculous  powers,  and  propagated  a 
religion  which  had  many  human  probabilities  in 
its  favor,  although  in  its  establishment  it  was  still 
wonderful  enough,  I  allow.  Then,  as  to  the  two 
Messiahs,  that  is  a  mere  invention  of  the  Jews  to 
palliate  their  infidelity.  The  triumphant  and  the 
suffering  Messiah  are  one  and  the  same  person, 
and  never  before  were  such  opposite  and  even 
contradictory  characters  united  together  in  so  ex- 
traordinary a  manner.  None  but  a  prophet  could 
have  conceived  any  thing  like  it — at  least  none 
who  wished  to  draw  a  character  to  agree  with 
nature ;  and  a  prophet  only  could  foreknow  that 
a  person  fulfilling  such  a  character,  in  all  its 
parts,  would  hereafter  exist.  And,  on  the  other 
hand,  this  strangeness  of  the  character  made  it  the 
more  difficult,  nay,  made  it  impossible,  I  might 
say,  for  an  impostor  to  claim  it  with  success.  A 
man  cannot  at  will  both  triumph  and  suffer,  as  the 
prophecies  portray  the  fortunes  of  the  Messiah ; 
and  accordingly  we  find,  that  all  but  one,  who 
claimed  that  illustrious  title,  suffered,  indeed,  in 
some  sense  or  other,  but  never  triumphed  in  any 
sense.  They  suffered,  I  say;  for  in  general  they 
were  discomfited  and  slain  :  but  they  did  not  suffer 
as  the  blessed  Jesus  suffered,  and  as  Isaiah,  in  his 


112  THE     MAIN    ARGUMENT. 

fifty-third  chapter,  foretold  that  he  would  suffer. 
Without  doubt,  Mr.  Langstone,  you  have  read  that 
memorable  chapter,  which,  beyond  all  the  other 
prophecies,  had  such  a  surprising  effect  upon  Lord 
Rochester,  and  which,  I  should  think,  would  con- 
vince any  man  who  had  not  resolvedly  shut  him- 
self up  against  all  conviction,  and  barred  and 
barricadoed  up  the  avenues  by  which  conviction 
might  gain  an  entrance  into  his  understanding 
and  affections.  Here  is  a  prophecy  too,  which 
must  be  granted  to  be  clear  enough,  after  the 
event ;  and  the  more  obscure  it  might  be  before 
the  event,  so  much  the  more  wonderful  is  it,  and 
with  so  much  the  more  force  does  it  extort  convic- 
tion from  us.  For  it  was  obscure  only  because  it 
spoke  of  one  who  was  to  suffer,  not  for  himself 
but  for  others,  painfully,  ignominiously,  and  fatally, 
and  yet  to  rise  triumphantly  over  those  sufferings, 
and  to  be  prosperous  and  a  glorious  conqueror; 
and  to  found  a  peculiar  and  mighty  kingdom, 
which  should  endure  through  all  ages.  The 
.imagination  of  the  poet,  glancing  from  probable 
to  improbable,  from  possible  to  impossible,  had 
never  pictured  to  itself  any  thing  half  so  hetero- 
geneous ;  but  the  prophet,  inspired  with  a  divine 
spirit,  sketched  an  outline  which  our  crucified 
Redeemer  and  Lord  fulfilled  to  a  tittle.  The 
study  of  this  converted  the  Earl  of  Rochester; 


THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT.  113 

let  Mr.  Langstone  study  it,  and  he  will  be  con- 
verted too,  if  he  be  made  of  humari  stuff,  however 
firm  that  stuff  may  be." 

Being  warmed  with  my  subject,  I  could  not 
sufficientlj'  mark  the  effect  which  this  speech  pro- 
duced, and  an  accident  prevented  me,  at  that  mo- 
ment, from  ascertaining  it  by  any  thing  which 
they  might  have  been  disposed  to  say  in  answer 
to  me.  My  eye,  indeed,  being  fixed  upon  Mr. 
Langstone  during  the  latter  part  of  my  speech,  it 
did  not  escape  me  that  he  betrayed  considerable 
uneasiness ;  but,  Mrs.  Harrison  coming  in  upon 
the  instant,  all  our  attention  was  immediately  di- 
rected, towards  her,  and  in  a  few  minutes  after- 
wards, as  soon  as  it  was  decent,  Mr.  Langstone 
proposed  to  go.  HoAvever,  Mr.  Compton  would 
not  permit  it,  but  said,  "  Sister,  do  take  the  trouble  to 
order  up  something  to  eat,  for  we  are  all  hungry, 
I  dare  say,  with  talking;  and  Langstone  with 
riding  and  talking  too." 

At  once  the  bell  was  rung,  the  directions 
were  given,  Mr.  Langstone's  horses  were  quietly 
put  up  in  the  stable,  and  a  cold  collation  was  set 
out  by  the  side  of  Mr.  Compton's  sofa.  We  all 
now  sat  down  to  it,  and  the  debate,  fresh  as  it  was, 
seemed  to  be  entirely  forgotten. 

Whilst  we  were  eating,  nothing  of  any  conse- 
quence occurred:  but  scarcely  had  we  ceased, 
10* 


114  THE     MAIN    ARGUMENT. 

when  Mrs.  Harrison,  who  was  anxious,  no  doubt, 
as  usual,  about  her  brother,  and  curious  to  know 
what  had  passed  in  conversation  between  us,  and 
alarmed,  perhaps,  as  to  the  effect  of  Mr.  Langstone's 
visit,  (for  she  was  well  acquainted  with  his  charac- 
ter,) addressed  her  brother  thus: 

"  You  were  all  hungry  with  talking,  you  said, 
my  dear  brother :  pray  what  was  the  subject  upon 
which  you  talked  so  much  ? — I  fear  I  have  lost  a 
great  deal  of  information  by  my  absence." 

*'  Perhaps  so,"  he  replied :  "  the  subject  at 
least  would  have  pleased  you :  we  were  talking 
about  the  prophecies — whether  they  were  clear, 
or  obscure,  or  what  they  were ;  and  Dr.  Warton 
has  stated  to  us,  very  justly,  I  think,  that  upon 
the  supposition  of  their  being  genuine,  a  mixture 
of  clearness  and  obscurity  was  essentially  ne- 
cessary." 

"  Yes,"  I  said,  "  speaking  generally,  and  with 
respect  to  one  whole  large  class  of  the  prophecies; 
for,  besides  the  reasons  which  I  have  yet  assigned 
for  the  expediency,  and  indeed  necessity,  of  a  cer- 
tain degree  of  obscurity,  the  Jews,  being  under  a 
preparatory  dispensation,  which  was  to  last  till  it 
had  performed  its  object,  and  till  the  world  was 
ripe  for  Christianity,  which  was  to  be  erected  up- 
on its  foundations,  could  not  be  permitted  to  see 
clearly  to   the   end   of  that   dispensation,    under 


THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT.  115 

which  they  were  still  to  live  for  so  many  ages, 
and  thus,  perhaps,  to  compel  the  Deity  to  accom- 
plish his  designs  by  violence,  rather  than  by  the 
natural  operations  of  the  free  will  of  men.  But 
there  are  other  prophecies  which  needed  no  pre- 
vious obscurity ;  and,  in  point  of  fact,  they  were 
as  clear  beforehand  as  they  were  afterwards ;  only 
that  there  was  a  sort  of  condition  annexed  to  them, 
and  by  the  terms  which  they  were  expressed,  it 
seems  as  if  they  might  be  fulfilled,  or  not,  accord- 
ing to  circumstances.  The  prophetical  threats 
of  punishment  upon  the  Jews  are  a  splendid  in- 
stance of  this.  It  depended  upon  their  own  con- 
duct whether  those  threats  should  be  executed  or 
not;  but  the  threats  themselves  were  perfectly 
clear,  and  awful  has  been  their  accomplishment. 
Who  can  resist  so  irresistible  an  evidence  ?  When 
you  see  a  Jew,  you  see  a  miracle — a  perpetual, 
standing,  daily  miracle — to  prove  the  truth  of 
Christianity.  For  it  was  the  rejection  of  Him 
who  was  to  resemble  Moses  and  promulgate  a  new 
covenant — and  whom  they  were  commanded  by 
Moses  to  obey,  under  pain  of  the  most  terrible 
chastisements — it  was  the  rejection  and  crucifixion 
of  Him  which  was  followed,  with  no  tardy  step, 
by  those  very  chastisements  themselves.  Aston- 
ishing, indeed,  they  might  seem  beforehand,  and 
very  reluctant,  no  doubt,  would  the  Jews  be  to 


116  THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT. 

admit  that  God  would  so  utterly  cast  off  his  peo- 
ple ;  hut  the  threatenings  have  been  executed,  in 
their  clear,  plain  sense,  to  the  very  letter,  and  in 
every  tittle.  So,  then,  such  prophecies  were  clear 
as  might  properly  be  clear,  and  such  were  obscure 
as  ought  to  be  obscure ;  but  the  event  has  made 
them  all  equally  clear,  or  at  least  sufficiently  clear 
to  those  who  have  eyes,  and  are  willing  to  see 
with  them.  In  truth,  this  is  a  tremendous  con- 
sideration— ^that  God  will  judicially  inflict  blind- 
ness upon  those  who  are  not  willing  to  see,  and 
so  suffer  them  to  delude  themselves  to  their  own 
destruction." 

The  solemnity  with  which  I  delivered  this 
scriptural  warning  appeared  to  impose  a  tempora- 
ry silence  upon  them  all.  Mr.  Langstone  seemed, 
besides,  to  be  repressed  by  the  presence  of  a  vir- 
tuous woman,  and  no  longer  disposed  to  be  flip- 
pant or  dogmatical  At  length  Mr.  Compton  said, 
that  the  prophecies  deserved,  undoubtedly,  to  be 
well  weighed  ;  and  that  there  was  an  extraordinary 
character  about  them,  both  of  matter  and  of  style. 

"  Nor  do  I  think,"  he  added,  "  that  their  ob- 
scurity resembles  the  obscurity  of  the  heathen 
oracles,  which  were  often  so  constructed  as  to  be 
capable  of  being  accomplished  in  opposite  ways." 

"  No,"  I  said ;  "  we  never  meet  with  any 
thing  like  that  given  to  Croesus — that  if  he  cross- 


THE     MAIN     ARGUMENT.  117 

ed  the  Halys,  he  would  destroy  a  great  kingdom, 
which  would  have  been  equally  fulfilled  by  defeat 
or  victory.  In  short,  the  object  was  totally  differ- 
ent, and  they  do  not  admit  of  comparison  in  any 
respect.  The  fulfilment  of  an  insulated  heathen 
oracle  proved  only  the  dexterity  of  him  who  fra- 
med it ;  but  the  fulfilment  of  scripture-prophecy, 
which  is  one  great,  connected  system,  reaching 
through  many  ages,  and  pointing  to  one  vast  ob- 
ject, worthy  of  the  divine  care  and  mercy,  proves 
infinite  wisdom,  and  the  interference  of  God  him- 
self It  was  well  said,  therefore,  that  if  men  will 
not  believe  Moses  and  the  prophets,  neither  will 
they  believe,  though  one  rise  from  the  dead." 

Here  Mr.  Langstone  was  tempted  to  interpose, 
and  he  exclaimed  rather  eagerly,  "  Let  me  have 
the  latter  evidence,  however.  Dr.  Warton :  if  one 
rose  from  the  dead,  that  would  be  an  evidence  in- 
deed ; — the  most  determined  sceptic,  a  very  Aca- 
demic philosopher,  could  not  argue  against  it. 
But  it  never  happens ;  the  stories  of  such  things 
are  the  mere  fables  of  superstitious  old  women,  or 
of  men  who  are  like  them,  too  absurd  to  be  credit- 
ed for  an  instant.  And  I  must  say  (this  he  spoke 
with  an  affected  gravity,)  that  it  appears  to  me  to 
be  rather  singular,  that  an  evidence,  the  most  con- 
vincing of  all,  should  be  denied  to  us  ;  this  looks 
very  odd,  and  is  quite  unaccountable." 


118  THE  MAIN   ARGUMENT. 

There  was  a  malice  in  this  observation,  which, 
I  presume,  w^as  so  ill-concealed  as  to  be  visible  to 
all.  Without  noticing  it,  however,  in  an  open 
manner,  I  said, 

"  Well,  Mr.  Langstone,  but  how  is  this  ?  Do 
you  really  mean  to  assert  that  no  one  ever  rose 
from  the  dead  to  prove  to  us  the  truth  of  Chris- 
tianity ?" 

The  form  of  this  question  occasioned  him  to 
hesitate  a  little  before  he  answered  it ;  but  soon, 
with  almost  his  usual  holdness,  he  replied, 

"  There  is  no  such  thing ;  I  have  examined 
all  the  accounts  of  apparitions  and  ghosts,  and 
such  trash,  not  excepting  the  famous  tale  of  the 
Cock-lane  ghost ;  and  I  pronounce  them  all  to  be 
the  tricks  of  impostors,  or  the  dreams  of  dotards." 

"  But  there  is  one  account,"  I  resumed  coolly, 
"  which  is  better  authenticated  than  the  rest." 

"What  is  that?"  he  inquired  hastily  and  in- 
credulously. 

"  Jesus  Christ,"  I  answered,  "  was  sent,  first 
from  heaven  to  persuade  us,  and  when  that  was 
not  sufficient,  he  was  sent  to  us  afterwards  from 
the  dead.  Here  is  the  A-ery  evidence  which  you 
prize  so  highly — unique,  and  incontrovertible — 
superior  to  all  the  cavilling  of  an  Academic  him- 
fielf     What  do  you  object  to  this,  Mr.  Langstone?" 

At  first  he  was  somewhat  disconcerted,  but, 


THE   MAIN   ARGUMENT.  119 

after  revolving  the  matter  in  his  thoughts  a  mo- 
ment or  two,  he  exclaimed,  "  No,  no,  Dr.  Warton  ; 
that  will  never  do ;  that  is  begging  the  question. 
The  resurrection  of  Jesus  Christ  is  one  of  the 
supposed  facts  of  the  gospel,  and  can  never  be  ad- 
duced to  prove  the  gospel  itself  No,  no ;  what  I 
require  is,  the  return  from  the  dead  of  some  one 
whom  we  know,  to  assure  us  that  there  is  an  ex- 
istence after  this,  and  that  all  which  the  gospels 
tell  us  about  a  future  state  of  rewards  and  punish- 
ments is  true." 

"  And  must  this  appearance  of  one  from  the 
dead,"  I  inquired,  "  be  vouchsafed  to  every  indi- 
vidual person,  or  how  ?"  He  saw  the  absurdity 
into  which  he  was  ready  to  fall ;  so  he  replied 
cautiously, 

"  No,  no,  not  to  every  single  human  being  ; 
for  that  would  be  endless ;  but  to  various  persons 
at  various  times." 

"  Very  well,"  I  said,  "  and  how  then  were  the 
rest  of  mankind  to  be  convinced?  Must  they  be 
content  with  an  inferior  evidence,  or  what?" 

This  pressed  him  hardly,  and  he  was  com- 
pelled, after  much  hesitation,  to  confess,  that  they 
must  needs  take  it  upon  testimony. 

"  If,  then,  we  are  reduced,"  1  said,  "  to  such  a 
necessity,  that  an  infinite  number  of  persons  must 
be  content  with  the  testimony  of  witnesses  to  cer- 


120  THE   MA.IN  ARGUMENT. 

tain  facts,  why  may  we  not  all  of  us  be  satisfied, 
and  once  for  all,  with  the  testimony  of  witnesses 
to  the  one  great  fact  of  the  resurrection  of  Jesus 
from  the  dead  1  Nor  is  there  any  begging  of  the 
question  in  my  way  of  stating  the  argument. 
Jesus,  when  alive,  preached  certain  doctrines ;  they 
to  whom  he  preached  would  not  believe ;  he  came 
to  them  again  from  the  dead,  to  confirm  those  doc- 
trines by  so  supernatural  a  fact.  This  is  what  I 
understand  you  to  insist  upon.  Now  I  also,  from 
my  pulpit,  preach  the  doctrines  of  the  gospel ;  you 
doubt  about  their  truth,  from  the  alleged  insuffi- 
ciency of  the  evidence ;  therefore,  I  come  to  you 
from  the  dead,  to  give  you  what  you  call  the 
strongest  and  most  irrefragable  evidence  of  their 
truth ;  and  in  that  case  you  profess  at  least  that 
you  would  believe ;  but  others,  a  great  many 
others,  must  receive  the  matter  on  your  single 
authority.  I  ask,  then,  whether  it  would  not  be 
better,  and,  therefore,  wiser  in  the  Deity,  so  to 
ordain  it,  that  we  should  all  of  us  acquiesce  in  the 
original  evidence  of  the  fact  of  Christ's  resurrec- 
tion, rather  than  that  one  age  or  community  should 
trust  to  the  evidence  of  one  Mr.  Langstone,  and 
another  to  another,  and  succeeding  ages  or  com- 
munities to  succeeding  Mr.  Langstones  for  ever  ?" 
It  would  have  been  so  glaringly  and  ridicu- 
lously absurd  to  prefer  this  latter  expedient,  as  a 


THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT.  121 

general  mode  of  proceeding,  that  even  Mr.  Lang- 
stone  would  not  venture  to  argue  it.  A  short 
pause  therefore  ensued,  and  I  had  an  opportunity 
of  looking  round.  A  smile  was  playing  upon 
the  countenances  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Harrison;  if 
good  manners  would  have  permitted  them,  or  the 
natural  gravity  of  their  own  dispositions,  they 
would  probably  have  laughed  outright.  Mr.  Comp- 
ton,  though  ill  at  ease,  absolutely  did  so ;  and  at 
length  exclaimed, 

"  This  will  not  do,  Langstone ;  we  cannot 
maintain  it ;  it  has  no  solid  base.  Dr.  Warton 
has  touched  it  with  his  spear,  and  it  crumbles  to 
atoms." 

"  Yes,"  cried  Mr.  Langstone,  somewhat  petu- 
lantly, and  manifestly  vexed,  that  my  authority 
should  be  set  up  above  his  own,  by  his  quondam 
partner  in  profligacy  and  infidelity,  "  but  the  pre- 
tended fact  of  the  resurrection  of  Jesus  is  so  re- 
mote— so  lost  in  distant  antiquity — who  but  the 
most  credulous  will  believe  it  now  ?  Is  not  the 
strength  of  the  testimony  of  witnesses  diminished 
in  proportion  to  the  number  of  the  links  in  the 
chain  through  which  it  is  derived  ?" 

"  Then,"  I  said,  "  at  a  certain  period  it  would 
amount  to  nothing.  For,  being  continually  les- 
sened, it  must  at  length  become  less  than  the  least 
which  can  be  assigned,  and  which  in  practice  is 
11 


122  THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT. 

nought.  Thus  all  our  helief  of  ancient  facts  would 
be  completely  destro^^^ed,  and  history  unavailable 
to  the  improvement  of  mankind.  This  cannot  be ; 
your  argument,  Mr.  Langstone,  applies,  not  to 
testimony  in  general,  but  to  oral  tradition  in  par- 
ticular. That,  indeed,  is  weakened,  as  you  say, 
every  day ;  and  the  facts  only  so  reported  are  very 
soon  utterly  forgotten.  But  written  memorials 
stand  upon  a  different  footing,  and  if  their  authori- 
ty was  good  at  first,  it  is  good  for  ever  afterwards ; 
and  perhaps  increased,  instead  of  diminished,  by  the 
lapse  of  time,  in  consequence  of  a  thousand  circum- 
stances which  may  arise  collaterally  to  strengthen 
it.  But  the  original  authority  will  be  better  and  bet- 
ter, in  proportion  as  they  who  record  the  facts  were 
nearer  and  nearer  to  the  occurrence  of  the  facts 
themselves,  and  had  superior  means  of  informa- 
tion. By  this  canon,  therefore,  the  authority  of 
the  four  gospels  can  scarcely  be  exceeded  in 
weight.  Matthew  and  John  were  absolutely  eye- 
witnesses. Mark  was  probably  the  same ;  but 
at  all  events  he  was  the  constant  companion  of 
one  who  certainly  was.  And  Luke  shall  speak 
for  himself"  Then  suddenly  rising  from  my  seat 
at  the  table,  I  seized  a  Bible,  which  I  had  espied 
with  pleasure,  upon  my  first  entrance,  lying  upon 
a  small  table  in  a  corner  of  the  room,  and  return- 
ing with  equal  speed,  and  opening  at  St.  Luke's 


THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT.  123 

gospel,  I  read  aloud  the  four  introductory  verses, 
and  immediately  afterwards  resumed  the  argu- 
ment. 

"  You  observe,"  I  said,  "  what  St.  Luke  as- 
serts— namely,  that  he  had  a  perfect  understand- 
ing of  all  things  from  the  first.  Upon  the  whole, 
therefore,  the  testimony  of  these  four  Evangelists 
is  the  very  best  that  can  possibly  be  had ;  and  it 
is  confirmed  in  every  way  by  every  thing  else 
which  bears  upon  it ;  it  stands  unimpeached  and 
unimpeachable.  Your  sceptics  and  freethinkers, 
indeed,  may  set  it  aside  at  once,  and  without  ex- 
amination, by  a  single  ipse  dixit,  or  stroke  of  the 
pen ;  but  it  must  be  allowed,  I  think,  that  their 
authority,  under  such  circumstances,  is  less  than 
nothing — on  the  negative  side  of  the  line  of  zero ; 
much  less  to  be  put  into  the  balance  against  the 
mighty,  overwhelming  authority  of  men  of  all  ages, 
prodigious  in  talent,  in  learning,  in  virtue — the 
splendid  luminaries  of  their  respective  generations ; 
men,  too,  who  probed  this  very  testimony  to  the 
bottom,  were  satisfied  with  it,  and  fastened  their 
faith  and  hopes  upon  it.  In  comparison  with 
this,  the  other  kicks  the  beam." 

Mr,  Langstone  and  Mr.  Compton  not  seeming 
disposed  to  say  any  thing  in  answer  to  me,  Mr. 
Harrison,  to  carry  on  the  discussion,  inquired 
whether  it  was  clearly  made  out  by  the  learned, 


124  THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT. 

that  Matthew,  Mark,  Luke,  and  John,  were  really 
the  authors  of  the  gospels  ascribed  to  them ;  and 
whether  those  gospels  had  come  down  to  us  in  a 
pure,  unadulterated  form. 

♦'  It  happens,"  he  said,  "  that  I  have  not  ex- 
amined this  question  for  myself,  but  have  hitherto 
taken  it  upon  trust ;  I  should  like  to  know,  there- 
fore, something  more  positive  about  it ;  and  it  is 
of  importance  in  the  present  stage  of  our  debate." 

"  Yes,  certainly,"  cried  Mr.  Langstone,  eager 
to  second  any  thing  which  implied  a  doubt  about 
the  foundations  of  Christianity ;  "  unless  this  can 
be  made  out  to  our  perfect  satisfaction,  the  resur- 
rection, and  every  other  fact,  fall  to  the  ground  at 
once.  How  is  this,  Dr.  Warton?  There  are 
plenty  of  gospels,  besides  these  four,  which  you 
are  pleased  to  call  forgeries;  but  wherefore? 
Why  may  not  these  be  the  forgeries,  and  those 
others  genuine?  Or  rather,  are  they  not  all 
forgeries.  There  are  enough,  I  believe,  of  ab- 
surdities, and  inconsistencies,  and  contradictions, 
in  them  all,  to  overturn  them  all.  Pray  explain 
this.  Dr.  Warton." 

"  Fie,  fie,  Mr.  Langstone,"  I  said ;  "  why  set 
me  to  do  a  thing  for  you,  which  you  may  do  so 
easily  for  yourself,  any  fine  morning  that  you 
will  ?  There  is  Lardner,  for  instance ;  he  wrote 
upon  this  subject  in  about  a  dozen  paltry  octavo 


THE    MAIN     ARGUMENT.  125 

volumes ;  and  what  are  they  to  your  freethinker, 
who  is  always  indefatigable  in  his  investigations, 
and  cannot  sleep,  unless  he  has  dived  to  the  very 
bottom  of  things,  and  solved  every  difficulty  1  Be- 
sides, these  octavos  are  so  charming,  that  you  will 
wish  them  to  be  folios ;  or  perhaps  they  will  tempt 
you,  for  the  sake  of  becoming  a  perfect  master  of 
this  question,  to  betake  yourself  to  the  real  folios 
themselves — a  hundred  or  more,  I  warrant  you ; 
the  old  Fathers,  I  mean,  without  whose  help  you 
must  be  content,  after  all,  to  go  upon  trust,  or  to 
grope  in  the  dark.  Well,  all  these  have  been 
conned  over,  again  and  again,  by  men  skilful  in 
the  ancient  languages,  beginning  their  researches 
with  the  apostolic  ages,  and  carrying  them  down 
through  several  of  the  early  centuries ;  and  thus, 
after  the  most  laborious  industry,  and  the  maturest 
deliberation,  and  the  most  scrutinizing  criticism, 
and  an  illustrious  display  of  all  the  powers  and 
resources  of  the  most  gigantic  learning,  was  the 
canon  of  scripture  settled.  But  Mr.  Langstone 
will  unsettle  it  at  once,  and  without  any  trouble, 
by  a  mere  query — '  may  not  the  four  gospels  be 
forgeries  V  I  will  ask  you,  Mr.  Harrison,  can  any 
thing  more  be  done  that  has  not  been  done  towards 
the  complete  disposing  of  this  question  ?" 

"  It   seems   impossible,"   answered    Mr.   Har- 
rison.    •'  Every  production  of  antiquity  bearing 
11* 


126  THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT. 

upon  these  gospels  has,  you  say,  been  thoroughly 
sifted." 

"  It  has,"  I  rejoined,  "  and  many  more  than 
now  exist." 

"  Any  man,  then,"  he  said,  "  who  should  at- 
tempt to  go  through  the  inquiry  again,  would  have 
smaller  means  of  settling  the  question." 

"  Yes,"  I  replied,  "  smaller,  certainly,  but  am- 
ply sufficient  to  satisfy  the  most  scrupulous  mind, 
and  to  occupy  the  longest  life." 

"  And  the  epitome  of  the  whole  investigation 
is  to  be  found  in  Lardner ;  is  it  not  ?"  he  inquired. 

"It  is,"  I  said. 

"Then  I  will  look  into  him,"  he  continued, 
"just  to  acquaint  myself  with  the  mode  of  the  in 
vestigation." 

"  You  will  do  well,"  I  said  ;  "  but  almost  any 
of  the  books,  much  shorter  ones,  upon  the  canon 
of  Scripture,  would,  I  think,  serve  your  purpose, 
although,  in  saying  this,  I  would  not  be  suppo- 
sed to  discourage  larger  inquiries.  And  as  to 
the  other  point  which  you  started,  the  purity 
of  Scripture,  it  need  only  be  mentioned,  to  satisfy- 
any  ingenuous  person,  that  since  the  invention  of 
printing,  the  wilful  corruption  of  the  text  has  been 
impossible ;  and  that  before,  the  power  of  com- 
paring manuscripts  with  each  other,  and  with  the 
translations  of  them  into  different  languages,  and 


THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT.  127 

the  vigilant,  mutual  watch  of  contending  sects, 
made  it  extremely  difficult  to  alter  or  interpolate 
any  thing  without  immediate  detection.  In  short, 
every  thing  of  that  sort,  which  was  either  attempt- 
ed or  accomplished,  and  every  variety  of  reading, 
which  has  ever  existed  in  any  manuscript,  are 
perfectly  well  known  to  the  critics,  and  actually 
appear,  for  the  general  inspection,  in  the  great 
and  elaborate  editions  of  the  Scriptures.  What 
more,  then,  can  you  now  at  this  day  expect,  or 
could  you  ever  have  ?" 

"  Nothing,  certainly,"  replied  Mr.  Harrison ; 
"  and  I  must  say  for  myself,  with  the  most  unfeign- 
ed pleasure,  that  I  am  entirely  at  ease  upon  the  sub- 
ject.   I  thank  you,  Dr.  Warton,  a  thousand  times." 

"  Very  well,  then,"  I  said ;  "  if  these  collateral 
questions  are  thought  to  be  sufficiently  settled,  we 
come  back  to  the  original  one  with  the  more  de- 
cided certainty  ;  and  vve  cannot  but  acknowledge, 
not  only  that  the  fact  of  Christ's  resurrection,  at- 
tested by  such  witnesses,  as  we  have  described,  is 
a  more  forcible  and  convincing  evidence  of  the 
truth  of  Christianity,  than  the  appearance  of  one 
from  the  dead  to  different  persons  at  different 
times,  but  also  than  such  an  appearance  to  every 
individual  of  every  time." 

"  That  is  a  strong  assertion,  indeed.  Dr.  War- 
ton,"  said  Mr.  Compton ;  *'  I  was  disposed  to  go 


128  THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT. 

with  you  before,  but  I  cannot  now.  So  far  T  am 
well  aware,  that  the  appearance  of  one  from  the 
dead  to  every  individual  is  by  no  means  to  be  ex- 
pected as  a  general  system.  As  Langstone  very 
truly  said,  it  would  be  endless.  I  am  aware, 
also,  from  what  has  passed  between  us  in  conver- 
sation, that  it  may  not  suit  the  purposes  of  the 
Deity  to  afford  us  all  universally  the  best  evidence 
which  may  be  possible ;  but  that  he  may  wish  to 
try  our  tempers  and  dispositions,  whether  we  will 
believe  upon  sufficient  evidence ;  upon  the  same 
evidence  that  we  believe  other  facts  of  importance 
to  us.  One  thing  more  I  willingly  concede,  that 
the  humor  or  caprice  of  particular  persons  is  not 
to  be  indulged,  as  a  matter  of  course,  with  that 
evidence,  which  may  either  really  be,  or  which 
they  themselves  may  choose  to  call,  the  strongest. 
But,  then,  I  should  still  think  with  Langstone, 
that  the  appearance  of  one  from  the  dead,  theoreti- 
cally speaking,  is  such  an  evidence  as  it  would 
be  impossible  to  controvert ;  and,  although  you 
see  that  I  do  not  go  his  length  in  pronouncing  it 
singular  and  odd,  that  this  especial  evidence  is 
denied  us,  yet  I  cannot  but  regret  the  total  want 
of  it  in  every  case,  and  upon  every  occasion 
whatever.  These  are  my  sentiments.  Dr.  War- 
ton,  which  I  hope  I  have  made  intelligible  ;  but  I 
will  not  shut  my  ears  against  conviction." 


THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT.  129 

I  could  with  difficulty  restrain  my  joy,  when  I 
heard  this  speech.  It  delighted  me  in  every  way. 
It  was  full  of  candor,  and  visibly  bespoke  a  sur- 
prising change  of  opinion  and  feeling.  But  what 
pleased  me  most  was  the  desire,  which  I  thought 
I  saw  in  it,  of  carrying  Mr.  Langstone  with  him 
through  all  the  consequences  which  might  ensue 
to  himself  There  was  an  evident  management 
in  what  he  said,  with  a  view  to  his  friend,  of 
some  sort  or  other.  I  interpreted  it  in  the  view 
which  I  have  mentioned,  and  hailed  it  as  the  har- 
binger of  certain  good.  At  the  same  time  he  had 
mistaken  my  position.  I  had  contrasted  the  gen- 
eral evidence  of  Christ's  resurrection  with  a  gene- 
ral system  of  appearances  from  the  dead ;  but  he 
contrasted  it  with  particular  appearances  to  par- 
ticular persons,  now  and  then,  upon  extraordinary 
occasions,  and,  as  it  seemed,  for  their  own  convic- 
tion alone.  In  my  way  of  putting  it,  it  struck 
me  then,  that  a  general  system  of  appearance  to 
every  individual  of  every  time  would  come  to  no- 
thing, and  be  a  waste  of  miraculous  interferences ; 
and  I  think  the  same  now.  But  his  position  was 
exceedingly  plausible  and  well  worthy  of  consider- 
ation ;  and  it  seemed  besides  to  be  of  great  conse- 
quence to  me  to  overthrow  it,  if  I  could.  I  knew, 
upon  the  whole,  that  it  was  wrong ;  but  I  by  no 
means  knew  whether  I  should  be  able  to  prove  it 


130  THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT. 

to  be  so  to  his  satisfaction.  Were  this  done,  the 
result  might  be,  not  only  that  he  Avould  look 
solely,  and  as  a  matter  of  necessity,  to  those  great 
universal  evidences  which  God  has  provided  for 
the  whole  race  of  mankind,  but  also  that  he  would 
abandon  altogether  the  vain  notion,  which  he  now 
entertained,  of  the  certainty  or  even  probability 
that  a  particular  appearance  would  be  useful  to 
himself 

"  Well,  then,"  I  said,  after  a  short  pause,  and 
without  taking  any  notice  of  the  variation  which 
he  had  introduced,  "  We  will  see  about  it.  But 
it  will  be  of  no  avail  to  argue  it  as  a  naked,  ab- 
stract, theoretical  question,  whether  this  or  that 
evidence  is  the  strongest.  We  will  take  it  up 
practically,  and  as  Scripture  puts  it:  'If  they  be- 
lieve not  Moses  and  the  Prophets,  neither  will 
they  believe,  although  one  rose  from  the  dead.* 
It  is  supposed,  therefore,  that  all  the  other  evi- 
dence has  been  already  examined,  and  rejected  as 
insufficient  ;  and  the  question  is,  whether  the 
same  persons,  who  have  done  this,  are  likely  to 
be  convinced  by  the  apparition  of  one  sent  to 
them  from  the  grave.  Our  Lord  said  they  were 
not ;  at  least  he  has  so  represented  it  in  his  most 
interesting  and  instructive  parable  of  Dives  and 
Lazarus." 

"  Yes,"  exclaimed  Mr.  Langstone,  with  vehe- 


THE  MAIN  ARGUMENT.  131 

mence,  and  interrupting  me ;  "  but  his  own  his- 
tory, which  you  call  authentic,  is  against  him. 
For  it  is  there  stated,  that  one  of  his  own  disci- 
ples, who  had  seen  all  his  miracles,  and  had  been 
told  beforehand,  that  after  death  he  would  rise 
again;  and  was  now  told,  that  he  was  actually 
risen,  and  that  he  had  appeared  to  those  very  per- 
sons who  mentioned  the  fact  to  him ;  could  not, 
however,  be  prevailed  upon  to  yield  to  any  testi- 
mony, or  to  any  evidence,  but  to  that  of  his  own 
eyes ;  and  the  story  goes  on  to  say,  that  this  evi- 
dence was  given  to  him,  and  that  he  believed  in 
consequence  of  it.  This,  I  think,  is  what  you 
have  already  alluded  to.  Dr.  Warton  ;  and  you  in- 
sinuated that  the  case  of  this  doubting  disciple,  who 
afterwards  believed,  because  he  saw,  was  a  case 
without  merit ;  so  I  suppose,  the  greater  a  man's 
credulity,  the  more  orthodox  and  the  more  meri- 
torious his  faith.  But  without  stopping  to  show 
the  absurdity  of  this,  or  to  remark  upon  the  in- 
consistencies of  your  Scriptures:  what  I  quote 
the  story  for  is  by  way  of  an  argumentuin  ad 
hominem  to  yourself,  Dr.  Warton.  You,  at  least, 
must  allow,  that  here  was  a  man,  whom  no- 
thing else  convinced,  convinced  by  an  apparition ; 
and  why  should  you  pronounce  the  same  thing 
improbable  now  ?  I  protest,  1  do  not  see  how  I 
could  resist  that  evidence  myself     But  there  is 


132  THE  MAIN  ARGUMENT. 

no  danger  of  such  a  trial.  What  is  there  to  re- 
appear ?  The  bodies  of  the  dead  crumble  into 
dust,  as  we  all  know ;  and  the  spirits  which  ani- 
mated them,  vanishing  together,  will  never  again 
disturb  others,  nor  be  disturbed  themselves. 

Death  is  the  end  of  them  for  ever." 

Perhaps  the  design  of  this  open  denial  of  the  im- 
mortality of  the  soul  was  to  lead  me  away  from  the 
subject  in  hand  to  a  new  topic.  I,  however,  chose 
not  to  enter  this  new  track,  but  proceeded  thus : 

"  You  say  you  could  not  resist  the  evidence 
of  an  apparition  from  the  dead  yourself,  but  how 
would  you  know  whether  your  supposed  appari- 
tion of  a  dead  man  from  the  other  world  was  real  ? 
How  will  you  know  whether  it  be  a  true  ghost, 
or  the  mere  empty  illusion  of  a  dream?" 

"  Oh !  pardon  me,  Dr.  Warton,"  he  replied 
hastily,  "  I  have  nothing  to  do  with  dreams.  To 
be  influenced  by  dreams  is  the  very  height  of  folly 
and  weakness  ;  that  is  not  my  failing.  I  must  be 
wide  awake,  or  the  ghost  will  do  nothing  with  meP 

"  So  you  shall  then,"  I  said,  "  but  many  men 
dream,  do  they  not,  even  when  awake?" 

"  Why,  that  is  true  enough,"  he  answered  sar- 
castically ;  "  the  dreams  of  waking  superstition  are 
endless,  and  most  absurd," 

"  Be  it  so,"   I  said.     "  It  is  not  unlikely  that 


THE  MAIN   ARGUMENT.  133 

you  are  acquainted,  as  I  am,  with  persons  who 
affirm,  without  the  slightest  doubt  upon  the  sub- 
ject in  their  own  minds,  and  apparently  beyond 
the  possibility  of  being  convinced  to  the  contrary, 
that  they  have  seen  with  their  open  eyes  the 
strangest  visions  imaginable,  which  you  know 
immediately  by  internal  evidence  to  be  false." 

"  I  have  certainly  met  with  more  than  one  per- 
son of  that  description  in  the  course  of  my  life," 
he  replied. 

"But  I  presume  you  did  not  believe  their 
stories,"  I  said. 

"  No,  indeed,"  he  answered ;  "  I  laughed  at 
their  absurdity  and  nonsense." 

"Should  you  have  expected  them  to  believe 
your  I  asked,  "  if  you  had  related  similar  stories 
of  yourself  to  them  ?" 

"  Nor  that  either,"  he  replied,  "  unless  they 
were  infatuated." 

"  Well,  then,"  I  asked  again,  "  and  would  you 
not  try  to  account  for  the  mistakes  of  those  delu- 
ded people,  by  saying  that  they  must  certainly  have 
been  dreaming  in  their  sleep,  although  they 
thought  themselves  wide  awake?  Or,  if  they 
were  really  awake,  yet  that  their  fancies  were  still 
but  a  dream?  Their  agitated  minds,  perhaps, 
were  dwelling  perpetually  upon  some  peculiar  no- 
tions, until  they  embodied  them  into  shapes,  which 
12 


134  THE  MAIN  ARGUMENT. 

danced  before  their  eyes  with  all  the  semblance  of 
realities.  Would  you  not  explain  the  matter  in 
one  or  other  of  these  ways  ?" 

He  granted  that  he  should. 

"  And  all  sober-minded  persons,"  I  said, 
"  would  explain  in  the  same  way,  would  they  not, 
any  similar  supernatural  visions  which  you  might 
tell  them  had  occurred  to  yourself?" 

He  allowed  it. 

"Very  well,  then,"  I  said,  "this  being  univer- 
sally the  case,  however  we  might  at  first  have  been 
convinced  of  the  reality  of  these  visions,  and  ob- 
stinately bent  upon  believing  them,  should  we  not 
at  length  begin  to  distrust  ourselves  ?  One  man 
laughs  and  ridicules  us,  another  argues  and  dis- 
putes with  us,  a  third  accounts  ingeniously  for  our 
delusions.  Can  we  stand  out  against  all  this  for 
ever?  Will  not  our  own  belief  be  gradually 
weakened,  and  at  last  extinguished?" 

"  It  seems  likely  enough,"  he  answered,  "  speak- 
ing generally ;  but  if  I  were  the  person,  as  I  am 
pretty  confident  that  I  shall  always  be  master  of 
my  own  senses,  I  think  I  could  distinguish  suffi- 
ciently by  the  circumstances  whether  the  vision 
were  a  true  one  or  not ;  a  ghost,  suppose,  or  only 
a  phantom  of  the  brain." 

"  A  ghost  would  probably  speak  to  you,  would 
it  not?"  I  inquired. 


THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT.  135 

"  I  presume  so,"  he  replied  ;  "  for,  if  it  had  any- 
rational  object,  the  object  must  be  explained  by- 
words." 

"  Undoubtedly,"  I  said,  "  and  the  words  spoken 
might  be  an  excellent  clue  to  direct  you  in  form- 
ing your  judgment  about  the  ghost  itself,  whether  it 
were  a  true  or  a  false  apparition,  whether  it  came 
from  God  or  from  the  devil ;  might  they  not  ?" 

"  Possibly  they  might,"  he  answered. 

"  You  being  always  in  possession  of  your 
sober  senses,"  I  said,  "  if  the  ghost  were  to  utter 
something  amazingly  nonsensical,  would  you  not 
pronounce  at  once  that  it  was  a  false  ghost,  al- 
though you  might  be  broad  awake  ?" 

*'  I  would  certainly,"  he  replied,  laughing. 

"And,"  I  said,  "if  it  ordered  you  to  do  some- 
thing which  would  drive  you  out  of  society,  and 
disgrace  your  name  for  ever,  would  you  not  pro- 
nounce it  to  be  a  false  ghost ;  or,  if  it  were  a  real 
one,  that  it  came  from  the  Father  of  lies  and  all 
mischief?" 

"  If  there  were  any  such  being,"  he  answered 
dubiously,  "  I  might,  perhaps,  say  so." 

"  Well,"  1  continued,  "  and  suppose  the  ghost, 
resembling  a  dead  person  of  your  acquaintance, 
who  disbelieved  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  should 
address  you  in  this  manner,  '  Mr.  Langstone !'  he 
comes   upon  a  grave  errand,  arid  therefore  we 


i36  THE  MAIN  ARGUMENT. 

must  make  him  speak  with  a  correspondent  be- 
coming gravity;  'Mr.  Langstone.'  Probably,  in- 
deed, to  rivet  your  attention  to  him,  he  will  repeat 
your  name  three  times,  in  the  true  ghost-like  style, 
and  with  a  hollow  sepulchral  tone,  '  Mr.  Lang- 
stone, — Mr.  Langstone, — Mr.  Langstone.'  " 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Harrison,  with  all  their  sense 
of  dignity  and  good  manners,  could  hardly  re- 
strain a  laugh.  Mr.  Compton,  without  any  scru- 
ple, laughed  aloud.  Mr.  Langstone  himself,  bit 
his  lips  for  vexation.  It  was  quite  a  novelty  to 
him  to  be  the  object  of  raillery  ;  being  like  ^sop, 
derisor  aliorum,  non  ipse  deridendus*  So  he 
jumped  up  from  his  chair,  and  exclaimed,  angrily, 
that  he  would  be  gone,  if  we  wished  to  do  any 
thing  else  but  to  argue. 

"  Nay,  nay,"  said  Mr.  Compton,  pacifying 
him;  "this  is  Dr.  Warton's  good-humored,  face- 
tious way  of  putting  his  supposition;  you  have 
had  your  own  jokes,  without  any  obstruction  what- 
ever ;  and  therefore  you  are  bound  by  the  law  of 
reciprocity,  not  to  spoil  his  wit  by  interrupting 
him.  No,  no,  Langstone  ;  sit  down  again  ;  I  am 
all  impatience  to  hear  the  ghost's  speech." 

This  did  not  much  mend  the  matter  ;  however, 
he  resumed  his  seat;  because,  I  believe,  he  would 

♦Accustomed  to  laugh  at  others,  not  to  be  laughed  at 
himself. 


THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT.  137 

have  found  it  a  very  awkward  thing  to  walk 
across  the  room  to  the  door  with  the  laugh  against 
him. 

"  Well,  then,"  I  began  again,  "  if  Mr.  Langstone 
does  not  admire  this  solemn  exordium,  perhaps 
he  would  as  little  admire  the  body  of  the  speech, 
and  still  less  the  peroration ;  so  I  will  put  it  all 
in  one  word.  The  ghost  comes  to  assure  you, 
Mr.  Langstone,  that  you  have  an  immortal  soul." 

"  Does  he  indeed  ?"  exclaimed  Mr.  Langstone, 
irritated,  and  starting  up  once  more ;  "  then  I  will 
not  believe  him."  He  uttered  this  in  a  most  de- 
termined tone,  but  sat  down  again. 

*'  I  thought  so,"  I  said  quietly  ;  "  but  pray  tell 
me,  were  there  not  persons  before  the  Christian 
era,  who  reasoned  themselves  into  a  belief  of  the 
immortality  of  the  soul."  He  could  not  deny  it. 
"  And  is  not  the  immortality  of  the  soul,"  I  ask- 
ed again,  "one  of  the  doctrines  of  Christianity?" 
It  was  impossible  for  him  to  say  otherwise.  "  And 
which  is  most  easy  to  believe,"  I  asked  thirdly, 
"  the  whole  of  Christianity,  or  this  one  doctrine 
which  is  a  part  of  it  ?" 

This  question  he  refused  to  answer,  and  cry- 
ing out  petulantly,  that  he  was  wearied  with  an- 
swering question  after  question  to  no  purpose,  he 
desired  me  to  answer  it  myself  according  to  my 
own  pleasure. 

12* 


138  THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT. 

"  I  will  then,"  I  said,  "  and  the  ohvious  answer 
is,  that  it  is  easier  to  believe  a  part  than  the  whole, 
which  necessarily  embraces  the  part  and  other 
things.  And  now  we  may  draw  the  conclusion 
from  these  premises,  which  is  equally  obvious, 
namely,  that  Mr.  Langstone  would  not  believe  in 
the  Christian  religion,  although  one  rose  from  the 
dead." 

Upon  this,  not  being  able  to  endure  his  un- 
pleasant situation  any  longer,  he  got  up  in  good 
earnest,  and,  as  he  took  leave  of  Mr.  Compton 
and  the  rest  of  us,  he  endeavored  to  conceal  his 
chagrin  with  a  laugh,  and  said,  "  Very  well ;  as 
Dr.  Warton  has  now  settled  the  matter  to  his 
satisfaction,  I  may  be  excused ;  so  good  morning 
to  you  all." 

This  he  accompanied  with  a  very  low,  affect- 
ed bow.  Mr.  Compton  called  out  that  he  should 
wait  till  his  horses  were  ready,  and  at  the  same 
time  desired  his  sister  to  ring  the  bell.  This  she 
did,  but  Mr.  Langstone  was  gone,  and  no  sooner 
was  the  door  shut  after  him,  than  she  exclaimed, 
"  Oh  !  my  dear  brother,  I  am  so  glad  that  he  has 
left  us  !   I  can  now  breathe  again  Avith  freedom." 

"  Yes,"  said  Mr.  Harrison,  "  and  with  all  his 
positive,  dictatorial  temper,  and  with  all  his  fluen- 
cy and  impetuosity  of  speech,  he  is  so  shallow 
too.     He  really  never  seems  to  me  to  penetrate 


THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT.  139 

beneath  the  surface,  or  to  see  to  the  end  of  any- 
thing, so  that  it  is  no  wonder  that  he  is  entangled 
and  confuted  immediately." 

Then,  thinking,  perhaps,  that  what  he  had 
said  was  not  complimentary  to  me,  he  added  in- 
stantly, "At  the  same  time.  Dr.  Warton,  I  am 
fully  aware,  and  acknowledge  with  gratitude,  the 
admirable  manner  in  which  you  conducted  the 
whole  conversation.  Indeed,  if  it  might  not  look 
like  flattery,  1  should  express  in  very  strong  terms 
my  great  surprise  at  the  readiness  and  facility 
with  which  you  meet  and  overthrow  every  posi- 
tion adverse  to  Christianity." 

"  It  is  true,"  interposed  Mr.  Compton ;  •'  you 
put  me  in  mind.  Dr.  Warton,  of  the  ingenious  de- 
scription of  the  Dialectic  and  Rhetoric,  and  I  per- 
ceive that  you  can  contend  in  the  manner  of  both. 
Your  short,  pithy,  pungent,  home-thrust  questions, 
are  the  hand  with  the  fingers  closed — the  fist,  as 
we  call  it;  and  your  lengthened  disputations, 
whether  in  attack  or  defence,  whether  to  explain 
or  to  illustrate,  are  the  hand  with  all  its  fingers 
expanded  and  apart." 

I  was  by  no  means  displeased  with  these  com- 
mendations, although  not  entitled  to  so  large  a 
measure.  If  their  opinion  of  me  had  been  but  a 
low  one,  I  should  scarcely  have  been  able  to  ef- 
fect any  thing   important,   especially  with  such 


140  THE   MAIN   ARGUMENT. 

a  man  as  Mr.  Compton,  with  whom  authority 
went  a  great  way.  I  thought  it  right,  however, 
to  put  the  matter  on  its  true  footing ;  so  I  said, 
"  Oh !  spare  me,  gentlemen  !  There  is  nothing  at 
all  really  surprising  in  what  I  do !  If  you  recol- 
lect that  these  are  the  subjects  upon  which  I  am 
constantly  reading,  and  thinking,  and  talking,  and 
writing,  and  preaching,  all  your  wonder  will  cease 
in  a  moment.  But  to  have  done  with  this,  I  wish 
to  know,  with  regard  to  the  last  point  that  we 
were  upon  when  Mr.  Langstone  deserted  us, 
whether  you  still  think  that  any  thing  would  be 
gained  by  appearances  from  the  dead?" 

"  I  am  not  quite  satisfied  about  it,"  he  answerd 
"  The  argument  terminated  too  abruptly  for  me." 

'•  So  far  I  presume  you  see,"  I  said,  "  that 
there  w^ould  be  a  difficulty  in  deciding  whether  it 
were  a  true  appearance  or  an  illusion,  and  if  a 
true  one,  whether  it  came  for  a  good  or  for  a  bad 
purpose.  Then  it  must  be  supposed,  (indeed  we 
assumed  it,)  that  if  it  were  a  true  one,  and  came 
for  a  good  purpose,  it  would  be  to  persuade  us  of 
something  against  which  we  were  so  strongly  pre- 
judiced as  to  have  rejected  the  suitable  evidence  of 
it.  Immediately,  therefore,  I  have  no  doubt,  we 
should  be  up  in  arms  against  the  poor  ghost ;  we 
should  be  disposed  to  pronounce  the  whole  thing 
a  fancy  of  the  brain,  or  perhaps  the  pious  fraud  of 


THE   MAIN   ARGUMENT.  141 

some  officious  friend  to  cheat  us  into  Christianity, 
or  a  change  of  life,  or  what  not  ?  Let  it  be  grant- 
ed, however,  that,  in  spite  of  all  such  endeavors  to 
escape  from  the  impression  of  the  reality  of  the 
ghost,  the  impression  will  still  cling  to  us  and 
haunt  us,  and  we  consult,  in  our  distress,  such  a 
man  as  Mr.  Langstone,  a  man  of  the  same  princi- 
ples, pursuits,  and  prejudices  as  ourselves.  Oh! 
what  a  battery  would  be  opened  upon  us  of  argu- 
ment and  raillery!  What  laughs,  what  jokes, 
what  jeers,  what  sarcasms,  would  not  be  launched 
against  us  !  what  appeals  would  not  be  made  to 
our  consistency,  to  our  courage,  to  our  pride !  In 
short,  he  must  be  an  extraordinary  man,  I  think, 
who  should  obey  the  ghost  against  his  own  in- 
clinations, and  in  despite  of  all  the  ridicule  that 
would  be  heaped  upon  him.  You  remember,  no 
doubt,  the  story  of  Lord  Lyttleton's  ghost,  and  the 
attempt  to  divert  his  mind  from  the  thoughts  of 
the  death  that  was  foreboded,  by  putting  the  clock 
forward  to  the  fatal  hour.  It  struck  ;  and,  at  once 
released  from  all  his  fears,  he  exclaimed  in  a 
transport  of  joy,  '  I  have  cheated  the  ghost !'  This 
illustrates  what  has  been  said ;  and,  upon  the 
whole,  it  appears  to  me  that  a  maxim,  w^hich  we 
might  well  have  admitted  on  our  Lord's  authori- 
ty alone,  is  now  sufficiently  proved  by  reason  and 
by  fact;    namely,  that  they  who  do  not  believe 


142  THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT. 

Moses  and  the  prophets,  will  not  believe  although 
one  rose  from  the  dead." 

"  In  truth  it  seems  so,"  said  Mr.  Compton, 
"  and,  therefore,  we  will  finish  the  discussion  here. 
I  am  sure  we  have  detained  you  unmercifully.  Dr. 
Warton.  I  expected  to  have  talked  upon  other 
subjects;  but  Langstone  led  us  to  the  prophe- 
cies, and  then  to  this  idle  speculation  about 
ghosts.  However,  it  has  been  useful  to  me, 
very  useful." 

"  I  am  glad  of  it,"  I  said,  as  I  got  up  to  go, 
*'  and  we  shall  have  time,  I  hope,  for  the  other  sub- 
jects, with  God's  leave." 

"  I  hope  so,"  he  replied,  and  reached  out  his 
hand,  which  having  pressed,  I  left  him. 

After  this  long  conversation,  a  week  elapsed 
before  I  saw  Mr.  Compton  again.  Mr.  Harrison 
was  with  me  on  the  following  day,  to  report  the 
satisfactory  progress  which  appeared  to  have  been 
made,  and  to  entreat  me  to  pursue  my  own  good 
work,  whenever  I  could  spare  time  for  it  from  my 
other  employments.  I  was  as  willing  to  do  this 
as  he  could  possibly  wish,  and  I  was  particularly 
encouraged  to  proceed  by  a  circumstance  which 
he  mentioned  to  me.  Mr.  Compton,  it  seems,  had 
written  to  Mr.  Langstone,  without  the  least  delay, 
and  whilst  the  subject  was  fresh  in  his  mind,  ia 


THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT.  143 

such  a  manner,  and  in  such  terms,  as  to  prove, 
at  least,  his  own  sincerity,  whatever  effect  might 
be  produced  upon  his  friend.  This  letter  Mr. 
Compton  had  shown  to  his  sister,  and  she  was 
highly  delighted  with  it  Amongst  other  things, 
it  reminded  Mr.  Langstone  with  what  facility  all 
the  opinions  which  he  had  advanced  had  been 
overthrown ;  and  it  took  occasion  from  thence  to 
insinuate  the  probability  that  every  other  opinion 
of  his,  inimical  to  the  Christian  religion,  might  be 
overthrown  with  equal  facility.  For,  in  fact,  these 
opinions  had  been  taken  up  on  bad  authority,  as 
Mr.  Compton  too  well  knew  by  his  own  sad  expe- 
rience; and,  therefore,  he  exhorted  his  friend  to 
substitute,  as  he  himself  was  about  to  do,  for  Bo- 
iingbroke,  and  Voltaire,  and  Hume,  and  Gibbon, 
the  writers  of  a  better  school. 

Well,  I  arranged  with  Mr.  Harrison  to  be  at 
Mr.  Compton's  the  next  day;  but  before  the  ap- 
pointed hour  arrived,  I  was  stopped  by  a  message, 
which  informed  me  that  Mr.  Compton  had  been 
seized  during  the  night  with  another  attack  of  pa- 
ralysis ;  from  v^^hich,  hoAvever,  it  was  thought  by 
the  medical  men,  that  he  would  certainly  recover, 
and  it  was  therefore  recommended  to  me  to  await 
the  result.  I  did  so,  and,  at  length,  after  the  inter- 
val which  I  have  already  mentioned,  the  disease 
having  abated,  and  Mr.  Compton  himself  having 


144  THE  MA.IN  ARGUMENT. 

expressed  a  great  desire  to  see  me,  I  lost  no  time 
in  going  to  him.  I  expected  to  find  a  great  altera- 
tion in  him  in  every  way.  This  second  seizure 
by  the  same  disorder  would  convince  him,  I  sup- 
posed, that  he  could  not  be  much  longer  an  inha- 
bitant of  this  world ;  and  that  it  was  necessary  for 
him,  therefore,  to  set  seriously  to  work  to  prepare 
himself  for  the  next.  At  all  events,  I  was  now 
determined  to  let  him  know  the  worst. 

I  was  received  by  Mr.  Harrison,  who  con- 
ducted me  immediately  up  stairs,  and  tapped  gently 
at  Mr.  Compton's  door.  Mrs.  Harrison  was  with- 
in; and  I  understood  that  this  was  a  concerted 
signal  for  her  to  dismiss  the  attendants  by  another 
door,  and  to  admit  me  alone.  However,  I  found 
nobody  in  the  room  but  herself  and  the  sick  man. 

He  was  sitting  in  his  bed,  supported  by  pil- 
lows, so  as  to  be  nearly  upright.  With  his  right 
hand,  the  only  one  not  paralysed,  he  held  up  a 
pocket-handkerchief  to  the  left  side  of  his  face,  to 
conceal,  as  I  thought,  the  distortion  of  it.  Fortu- 
nately, I  was  prepared  beforehand  to  expect  to  see 
some  derangement  of  his  natural  features,  which 
is  always  an  affecting  spectacle ;  but  he  was  pro- 
bably not  aware  that  I  knew  of  it,  and  so  tried  to 
hide  it ;  yet  he  might  be  sure  that  it  would  not  es- 
cape my  observation,  if  I  continued  with  him  many 
minutes.     Ah  !   I  said  to  myself,  he  still  clings  to 


THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT.  145 

the  world,  and  to  outward  appearances,  and  is  not 
sensible  of  their  vanity. 

As  I  approached  the  bed,  his  lips  quivered,  and 
tears  started  from  his  eyes,  and  all  that  I  saw  of  his 
countenance  betrayed  great  agitation  and  uneasi- 
ness of  mind.  It  was  pale,  as  from  loss  of  appe- 
tite, unquiet  rest,  and  mental  trouble.  His  sister 
wept  in  silence.  My  sympathy  was  awakened, 
but  I  could  do  nothing  to  console  him.  I  could 
not  grasp  his  hand  without  disturbing  and  perhaps 
distressing  him ;  to  speak  was  not  at  present  with- 
in my  power.  After  the  first  piteous  glance,  how- 
ever, when  he  ceased  to  look  at  me,  I  became  gra- 
dually re-assured,  and  at  length  began  the  conver- 
sation in  the  following  manner : — 

"  I  am  sorry.  Sir,  very  sorry,  to  see  you  in  so 
much  affliction." 

"  I  knew  you  would  be,"  he  said  immediately, 
interrupting  me,  and  expressing  himself  with  tole- 
rable firmness,  and  without  any  hesitation  or  in- 
distinctness of  speech,  which  I  was  glad  to  observe. 

"  Yes,"  I  resumed,  "  it  is  a  painful  thing  to  see 
any  person  in  pain  and  distress.  We  cannot  conquer 
that  feeling  at  once;  no,  nor  at  all.  Perhaps  it 
does  us  honor.  Yet  the  slightest  reflection  teaches 
us  that  these  evils  of  sickness  and  calamity  are 
calculated  and  intended  to  produce  good.  As  I 
walked  towards  your  house,  I  watched  some  large, 
13 


146  THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT. 

dark,  black  clouds,  which  were  suspended  in  the 
air  over  my  head,  and  threatened  every  moment  a 
tempestuous  downfall.  On  a  sudden,  the  sun,  which 
was  behind  one  of  them,  shot  his  beams  obliquely 
on  the  rest,  and  immediately  all  their  skirts  and 
edges  were  lit  up  with  a  golden  light.  The 
thought  struck  me  in  an  instant,  that  this  was  ap- 
plicable to  your  case,  Mr.  Compton.  Your  suf- 
ferings have  been  long  and  great,  after  an  unin- 
terrupted enjoyment  of  health  and  worldly  pros- 
perity. The  cloud  that  still  hangs  over  you  is 
large,  and  dark,  and  black  enough." 

"  It  is  indeed,"  he  said. 

"  Yes,"  I  resumed  again  ;  "  but  it  is  bordered 
by  a  robe  of  glorious  light ;  nay,  the  light  breaks 
through  it  in  every  direction.  The  design,  and 
the  use  of  your  calamities,  are  as  manifest  as  the 
calamities  themselves,  and  the  mercy  of  God  shines 
out  in  the  midst  of  them  with  a  visible  lustre. 
What  were  you,  I  ask,  six  months  ago  ?  What 
are  you,  I  ask,  now?  You  have  yourself,  indeed, 
already  told  me' what  your  former  life  has  been, 
and  how  conscious  you  were  that  it  was  totally  at 
variance  with  revelation.  But  it  was  contrary  to 
reason  too,  the  only  remaining  guide.  At  least  it 
could  not  be  the  proper  life  of  a  man  destined  to 
immortality  ;  that  is  as  clear  as  the  sun  at  noon- 
day.    No ;  and  I  will  go  further ;  it  could  not  be 


THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT.  147 

the  proper  life  of  a  man  doomed  to  terminate  his 
existence  in  this  world.  They,  who  would  shame- 
lessly maintain  such  a  position,,  are  but  little  re- 
moved from  the  brute  beast.  In  fact,  they  put 
themselves  voluntarily  upon  a  level  with  him,  and 
so  they  say,  as  he  might,  if  he  were  endued  with 
speech,  '  Let  us  eat  and  drink ;  for  to-morrow  we 
die,'  and  our  existence  is  at  an  end  for  ever.  What ! 
Is  this  the  language  and  the  sentiment  of  a  man  % 
Of  a  being,  whether  immortal  or  not,  yet  gifted 
with  the  highest  powers  of  reason  and  imagina- 
tion ;  capable  certainly  of  the  greatest  actions,  and 
the  noblest  aspirations?  No,  no;  a  rational  crea- 
ture must  acknowledge  that  he  ought  to  be 
governed  by  reason  in  all  circumstances  alike, 
whether  death  terminate  his  whole  existence  or 
not.  Such  a  life,  therefore,  as  is  led  by  loose  men 
of  the  world,  cannot  be  justified  upon  any  sup- 
position." 

Thus  I  was  running  on,  and  seemed  almost  to 
have  forgotten  my  main  point ;  but  here  the  sick 
man  exclaimed  with  earnestness,  and  dropped  his 
hand  from  his  face,  "  It  is  too  true.  Sir ;  I  see  it 
now,  and  I  wonder  it  so  long  escaped  me.  But 
what  am  I  at  this  moment,  that  I  should  feel  more 
comfortable  with  myself?" 

"  You  are  come  to  yourself,"  I  said,  "  which 
15  a  mighty  change.     This  sickness,  ordained  in 


148  THE     MAIN    ARGUMENT. 

mercy,  snapped  your  mistaken  habits  and  your 
erroneous  career  asunder.  It  compelled  you  to 
reflect:  it  brought  home  to  you  the  conviction, 
that  your  life  hung  upon  a  thread,  at  the  will  of 
another ;  it  forced  upon  you  the  thought  of  an 
hereafter,  into  which  you  might  be  plunged  in  a 
single  instant,  unawares,  and  unprepared;  you 
looked  round  for  support  against  this  tremendous 
idea ;  you  remodelled  your  family,  upon  virtuous 
principles;  you  came  to  God's  house  of  prayer; 
you  searched  the  holy  Scriptures;  you  inquired 
into  the  evidences  of  Christianity.  Am  I  not  right 
in  calling  this  a  mighty  change  ?  Six  month  ago 
did  this  seem  possible  ?  Could  it  have  happened 
without  adversity  ?  If  God  himself  had  not  touch- 
ed the  hard  rock,  these  waters  of  sorrow  would 
never  have  flowed:  he  deserves  your  love,  there- 
fore, for  he  has  first  loved  yow;  and  this  correc- 
tion is  the  proof  of  his  love." 

"Would  that  it  mio^ht  be  so,"  he  said;  "but, 
without  doubt,  if  there  be  a  God,  he  is  necessarily 
endued  with  all  perfection;  and  in  whatever  he 
does,  he  will  seek  the  glory  of  his  own  nature,  and 
not  the  gratification  of  any  temporary  passion. 
Nor  will  he  ever  exercise  one  attribute  to  the  ex- 
clusion of  another ;  except,  perhaps,  justice,  when 
he  has  tried  mercy  in  vain.  And  this  is  the 
thought  which  still  alarms  me,  lest,  in  my  own 


THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT.  149 

case,  he  has  inflicted  these  calamities  upon  me  ju- 
dicially, and  with  no  view  to  any  further  mercy." 

•*  The  great  scene  of  God's  justice,"  I  replied, 
*'  will  he  the  next  world.  In  this  world,  whilst 
we  continue  in  it,  our  trial  and  probation  will  also 
continue;  and  consequently,  until  the  very  mo- 
ment of  our  departure  from  it,  we  are  capable  of 
amendment.  I  speak  generally;  I  do  not  mean  to 
assert  that  God  never  inflicts  punishment  judicially 
in  this  world.  On  the  contrary,  we  sometimes  see 
men  struck  down  in  the  midst  of  their  vices,  with- 
out any  possibility  of  profiting  by  the  blow.  That, 
perhaps,  may  be  called  a  judicial  punishment ;  but 
I  myself  believe,  that  even  such  persons  are  snatch- 
ed away  in  mercy ;  in  mercy  to  others,  that  so  sig- 
nal an  interference  of  Providence  may  operate  as  a 
warning;  and  in  mercy  to  themselves,  because  God 
foresees,  that,  if  their  lives  were  prolonged,  they 
would  abuse  the  indulgence,  and  pluck  down 
upon  themselves  a  heavier  damnation." 

He  shuddered  at  the  word  with  which  I  con- 
cluded my  sentence ;  but  before  I  could  proceed, 
he  inquired  despondingly,  whether  it  were  not  pro- 
bable, both  from  reason  and  Scripture,  that  God 
had  appointed  a  term,  or  limit,  beyond  which  all 
the  avenues  to  mercy  are  closed  against  us. 

•'  Is  not  God  himself,"  he  said,  '*  represented 
in  one  of  the  Psalms,  as  swearing  in  his  wrath, 
13* 


150  THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT. 

that  certain    men   should  never    enter  into   his 
rest?" 

"  He  is,"  I  answered.  "  The  denunciation  is 
addressed  to  the  Jews  in  the  wilderness,  and  re- 
gards the  temporal  possession  of  the  promised 
land  of  Canaan.  It  has  nothing  to  do  with  their 
final  salvation  ;  although,  indeed,  it  might  be  rea- 
sonably feared,  that  the  same  crimes  which  ren- 
dered them  unworthy  of  a  temporal  rest  in  Ca- 
naan, might  render  them  unworthy  also  of  an 
eternal  rest  in  heaven.  But  then  there  is  this 
hope  on  the  other  hand,  that  so  striking  a  punish- 
ment as  that  of  shutting  them  up  in  a  barren  de- 
sert, till  they  were  all  cut  off  by  death,  might  have 
filled  many  of  them  with  deep  contrition  and  re- 
morse, and  so  they  might  have  done  what  they 
could,  and  the  best  which  they  knew,  individually, 
if  ^not  nationally,  to  reconcile  themselves  to  their 
offended  God.  This,  however,  could  not  reverse 
the  temporal  sentence  ;  but  it  might  affect  the  final 
one.  St.  Paul  undoubtedly  applies  this  text  to  all 
Christians ;  and,  therefore,  in  their  case,  rest  can 
only  mean  the  eternal  rest  in  heaven,  which  is 
prepared  for  the  righteous.  And  how  does  the 
apostle  intend  to  admonish  us?  Why,  that  as 
God  excluded  the  Jews  from  Canaan  on  account 
of  their  sins,  so  will  he  also  exclude  unrighteous 
Christians  from  heaven,  of  which  Canaan  was  the 


THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT.  151 

type.  This  being  the  case,  therefore,  and  life 
being  uncertain,  he  further  admonishes  us  to  cast 
out  betimes  the  evil  heart  of  unbelief,  and  not  to 
prolong  the  day  of  our  repentance,  but  to  seize 
upon  the  present  moment,  which  alone  is  in  our  own 
power;  and  it  is  implied  that  the  present  moment 
is  always  in  our  power.  We  know  nothing  there- 
fore of  any  period  of  God's  mercy,  or  of  any  con- 
dition of  sinners,  after  which  he  will  no  longer 
strive  with  them,  but  withdraw  his  holy  spirit  al- 
together. If  there  be  such  a  period  and  such  a 
condition,  yet  he  has  nowhere  revealed  them,  and 
therefore  it  is  impossible  for  us,  and  foolish,  to 
conjecture  about  them.  But  one  thing  is  certain, 
that  they,  from  whom  the  Spirit  is  withdrawn,  will 
plunge  deeper  and  deeper  into  sin,  if  they  are  per- 
mitted to  live.  Every  thought  of  theirs  will  be 
evil  continually.  You  may  use  this  test,  there- 
fore, for  yourself;  and  you  may  derive  from  it  the 
mighty  comfort  of  being  assured,  that,  if  there  be 
any  such  fatal  limit,  you  have  not  yet  passed  it ;  on 
the  contrary,  that  you  have  receded  from  it.  So 
wonderful  has  been  the  divine  goodness  towards 
you,  that  you  have  been  able  to  retrace  some  of 
your  steps ;  and,  I  doubt  not,  the  same  goodness  is 
now  waiting  upon  you  to  be  still  further  gracious. 
You  have  reason  for  hope,  but  none  for  despair  1" 
"Ah!"  said  the  sick  man  mournfully;  "but 


152  THE  MAIN  ARGUMENT. 

may  not  my  case  be  like  the  case  of  Esau,  who 
found  no  place  for  repentance,  though  he  sought 
it  carefully  with  tears?  Such,  I  think,  are  the 
words  of  St.  Paul.  I  met  with  them  this  very 
morning,  and  they  have  made  a  painful  impres- 
sion upon  my  spirits."  Upon  saying  this,  he  wept 
aloud  as  Esau  had  done,  and  his  sister  withdrew 
from  the  bedside  to  hide  her  grief 

"  You  have  mistaken  this  text,"  I  replied  im- 
mediately, "you  have  mistaken  it  entirely.  I  will 
explain  it  presently."  Then  I  followed  Mrs. 
Harrison  to  the  window,  and  recommended  to  her 
to  retire  into  the  adjoining  room  to  compose  her- 
self She  was  aware,  I  believe,  that  I  might  have 
some  particular  wish  for  her  absence,  and  so  she 
obeyed  at  once,  telling  me  that,  if  I  wanted  her, 
she  should  be  within  the  hearing  of  my  voice. 

This  being  arranged,  I  returned  to  my  post, 
and  sat  down  on  a  chair,  close  by  the  side  of  the 
sick-bed.  In  a  moment  Mr.  Compton  exclaimed, 
"  Oh  !  what  an  excellent  woman  is  my  sister.  Dr. 
Warton !  How  kind  and  tender-hearted  !  When 
I  think  of  her  as  a  wife,  too,  I  see  and  deplore  my 
own  loss.  The  great  error  of  my  life  strikes  me 
the  more  forcibly,  and  under  my  present  circum- 
stances adds  a  poignancy  to  my  feelings  which  is 
acute  and  piercing  indeed  !  Ah !  Dr.  Warton,  I 
too  might  have  had  such  a  wife,  perhaps,  to  watch 


THE  MAIN  ARGUMENT.  153 

over  me  with  afTectionate  care  and  anxiety  in  my 
distress;  and  children  to  surround  my  bed,  and 
lament  their  father.  Oh !  what  folly,  what  mad- 
ness— it  touches  me  now,  it  sinks  to  my  very 
heart !  You  do  not  know  enough  of  my  case, 
Dr.  Warton,  to  see  the  astonishing  folly  and  mad- 
ness of  it." 

Here  his  sobs  interrupted  him,  and  he  did  in- 
deed exemplify  the  history  of  Esau.  No  tears  or 
sobs  could  now  recover  the  blessing  which  he  had 
sacrificed  for  the  sake  of  a  present  indulgence. 
It  was  gone,  irreparably,  for  ever !  I  pitied  him  ; 
but  still,  as  I  doubted  whether  he  had  any  con- 
ception of  the  guilt  as  well  as  the  folly  and  mad- 
ness of  the  sin  to  which  he  had  alluded,  I  thought 
it  would  be  unseasonable  to  attempt  as  yet  to 
soothe  his  sorrow ;  so  remembering  those  beautiful 
lines  of  Milton  upon  wedded  love  and  indiscrimi- 
nate sensuality,  I  repeated  them  to  him,  and  after- 
wards some  others,  which  are  put  in  the  angel's 
mouth  to  reprove  Adam  for  the  undue  and  pas- 
sionate expressions  which  he  used  in  speaking  of 
his  connubial  happiness.  It  occurred  to  me  that 
I  might  thus,  perhaps,  gradually  prepare  him  for 
another  and  more  essential  view  of  his  condition. 

"You  have  admired,  no  doubt,  before,"  I  said, 
"  but  now  you  feel  to  your  very  inmost  sense,  my 
good  sir,  what  the  divine  poet  says : 


154  THE  MAIN  ARGUMENT. 

"  Hail,  wedded  love,  mysterious  law,  true  source 

Of  human  offspring — 

By  thee  adulterous  lust  was  driven  from  men 

Among  the  bestial  herds  to  range ;  by  thee, 

Founded,  in  reason,  loyal,  just,  and  pure, 

Relations  dear,  and  all  the  charities 

Of  father,  son,  and  brother  first  w^re  known. 

Perpetual  fountain  of  domestic  sweets, 

Whose  bed  is  undefiled— 

Here  Love  his  golden  shafts  employs,  here  lights 

His  constant  lamp,  and  waves  his  purple  wings, 

Reigns  here  and  revels ;  not  in  the  bought  smile 

Of  harlots,  loveless,  joyless,  unendear'd, 

Casual  fruition " 

"  Yes,  yes,"  cried  out  the  sick  man,  "  I  see 
now  my  error  and  calamity,  and  my  degradation 
too.  It  is  true  enough,  promiscuous  lusts  befits 
only  the  bestial  herds.  It  is  impure,  irrational, 
unjust,  and  faithless.  Guilt  and  shame  only  are 
its  offspring. 

"  YeS,  yes,"  he  exclaimed,  "  I  despise  myself 
now  thoroughly;  it  is  base,  and  below  a  man. 
This  is  my  deliberate  judgment.  Dr.  Warton,  not 
as  you  might  think,  the  constrained  profession  of 
one  cut  off  for  ever  from  every  enjoyment.  My 
misery,  indeed,  has  brought  me  first  to  the  know- 
ledge of  it,  but  thanks  to  my  misery  for  disclosing 
this  knowledge  to  me,  and  for  leading  me  to  view 
my  conduct  in  its  true  light,  as  it  really  is  ah- 
Btractedly  in  itself,  ugly  and  hideous." 

"  Aye,"  I  said,  "  and  if  it  be  ugly  and  hideous 


THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT.  155 

in  your  own  eyes,  what  must  it  be  in  the  eyes  of 
God,  Mr.  Compton  ?" 

"Detestable,  sir,  and  abominable!"  he  an- 
swered, in  an  instant,  and  with  an  unusual 
fervor. 

"  Ah !  Dr.  Warton,  I  have  argued,  (but  I  will 
argue  so  no  more,)  I  have  argued  at  the  midnight 
ball  of  harlots,  and  when  ill-disguised  under  the 
wanton  mask,  that  the  gratification  of  those  brutal 
passions  is  not  criminal ;  that  Nature  herself  bids 
us  reach  forth  our  hands,  and  taste  the  fruits  of 
pleasure  which  she  has  liberally  provided  for  us ; 
and  that  none  but  the  morose  cynic,  the  stern 
lawgiver,  and  the  pensioned  preacher,  would  en- 
deavor to  counteract  her  simple  dictates.  I  trem- 
ble when  I  reflect  that  such  false  and  hollow 
arguments  have  too  often  succeeded ;  but  the 
promised  fruits  have  turned  out  to  be  gall  and 
wormwood  in  the  end,  if  not  to  the  actual  taste. 
Such  they  are  now  to  ?wc." 

"  Yes,  indeed,"  I  rejoined,  "  it  is  very  likely^ 
and  I  am  glad,  for  your  own  sake,  that  it  is  so. 
But  how  shall  the  evils  done  to  society,  to  fami- 
lies, and  to  individuals,  by  such  reasonings,  and 
by  actions  correspondent  to  such  reasonings,  how, 
I  say,  shall  those  evils  be  repaired?  We  our- 
selves, by  God's  wonderful  mercy,  are  spared  per- 
haps to  see  the  horror  of  our  own  principles  and 


156  THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT. 

conduct,  and  to  repent  from  the  very  heart ;  but 
who  knows  this,  of  all  the  numbers  that  may  have 
been  corrupted  by  our  example  ?  How  few  are 
they  who  have  the  opportunity  of  being  improved 
by  our  recantation  ?  Like  waves  upon  the  agita- 
ted surface  of  a  pool  of  water,  which  spreads 
around  in  wider  and  wider  circles,  so  does  the 
evil  of  our  bad  example  diffuse  itself  daily  and 
hourly,  and  we  have  no  longer  any  control  over 
it.  Nor  does  it  cease  to  operate  through  the  me- 
dium of  others  even  when  we  die.  In  truth,  it 
still  proceeds  when  we  ourselves  lie  mouldering 
in  our  graves,  and  the  accumulated  sum,  no  doubt, 
will  be  charged  in  part  to  us  hereafter.  We  can- 
not reckon  it  up  in  imagination  even,  and  we  shall 
be  amazed  when  it  stands  in  array  against  us; 
but  God  has  noted  it  in  his  book,  from  time  to 
time,  and  there  it  must  remain,  if  God  so  choose, 
anobliterated  till  the  final  account." 

Mr.  Compton  was  deeply  touched  with  this 
picture  of  the  evil  done  to  society  by  a  bad  exam- 
ple ;  and  I  might  have  been  disposed  to  stop,  but 
recollecting  how  salutary  his  grief  might  be  to 
him,  I  went  on  almost  immediately  in  the  same 
strain. 

"  Think  also,"  I  said,  "  of  the  misery  brought 
upon  private  families,  and  upon  the  poor  victim 
herself !  Brought  up  in  innocence,  we  have  rob- 


THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT.  157 

bed  her  of  that  jewel.  The  delight  and  the  stay 
of  her  parents,  we  have  spoiled  them  of  their 
chief  comfort  and  support,  and  have  brought  down 
their  gray  hairs  with  sorrow  to  the  grave.  Hav- 
ing sacrificed  herself  to  our  seductive  flatteries, 
we  have  cast  her  off  to  scorn  and  a  deeper  profli- 
gacy, when  we  have  satiated  ourselves  with  her 
violated  and  ruined  beauty.  We  have  done  this 
perhaps,  and  without  remorse  we  have  hunted 
out  fresh  victims,  with  a  similar  result.  But 
what  will  they  say  to  us  when  we  all  stand  toge- 
ther before  the  last,  unerring,  impartial,  inflexible 
tribunal  ?  Will  not  the  parents  demand  their 
daughter  of  us,  pure  and  innocent  as  they  Avould 
have  always  wished  her  to  be  ?  Will  not  she  her- 
self exclaim,  pointing  at  us  with  an  extreme  an- 
guish, '  There  are  they  who  polluted  my  body 
and  soul  with  sin;'  and  will  she  not  without 
ceasing  invoke  almighty  vengeance  upon  our 
heads?" 

My  own  feelings  were  so  much  awakened  by 
these  representations,  that  I  paused  for  a  little  re- 
lief; and  then,  turning  towards  the  sick  man, 
from  whom  I  had  studiously  averted  my  counte- 
nance during  this  latter  speech,  that  I  might  ex- 
press myself  with  the  greater  energy,  I  observed 
that  his  face  was  covered  with  his  handkerchief, 
and  that  he  was  sinking  upon  his  pillows.  With- 
14 


158  THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT. 

out  delay  I  rang  a  bell,  which  was  upon  a  table 
near  me,  and  immediately  Mrs.  Harrison  entered 
by  one  door,  and  a  nurse  by  the  other. 

"  Mr.  Compton  seems  faint,"  I  exclaimed ;  so 
they  flew  to  his  help,  and  some  hartshorn  having 
been  administered,  he  soon  showed  symptoms  of 
recovery.  However,  Mrs.  Harrison  beckoned 
me  to  withdraw,  and  I  went  accordingly  into  the 
adjoining  room,  where  I  found  Mr.  Harrison  in 
some  anxiety. 

"  There  is  no  danger,"  I  said,  "  Mr.  Compton 
is  getting  better  again.  He  would  have  fainted, 
perhaps,  if  the  hartshorn  had  not  instantly  reliev- 
ed him." 

"  I  was  afraid,"  replied  Mr.  Harrison,  "  of 
another  paralytic  attack." 

"  No,"  I  rejoined,  "there  was  nothing  of  that 
sort.  He  was  over  aifected,  I  believe,  with  the 
picture  which  I  drew  of  the  results  of  vicious  in- 
dulgence;" and  then  1  related  the  substance  of 
what  had  passed  between  us. 

"  Aye,  aye,  indeed,"  cried  Mr.  Harrison,  "there 
is  no  wonder  that  he  vibrated  to  that  chord. 
Your  supposition  was  no  supposition  to  him ; 
facts,  facts.  Dr.  Warton,  now  speak  home  to  him 
as  loud  as  thunder.  A  dark  stain,  I  fear,  will 
rest  upon  his  memory ;  and  it  will  require  floods 
of  tears  to  wash  out  his  own  guilt.     I  am  glad 


THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT.  159 

that  you  have  probed  this  wound,  and  that  he  has 
himself  shown  so  much  sorrow." 

"  I  knew  nothing,"  I  said,  "  of  any  particu- 
lar story ;  hut  I  had  a  general  notion  what  the 
habits  of  his  life  had  been,  and  it  seems  likely 
now  that  he  will  never  have  any  other  means  of 
showing  the  sincerity  of  his  repentance  but  by 
the  abundance  of  his  grief  Therefore,  I  tried  to 
awaken  him  by  pretending  to  arraign  him  at  the 
bar  above.  But  pray.  Sir,  go  into  the  chamber, 
and  bring  me  word  again  how  matters  proceed ; 
and  whether  he  will  bear  to  see  me  once  more. 
To  leave  him  thus  would  be  unsatisfactory." 

Mr.  Harrison  went  as  I  desired,  and  soon  re- 
turned with  a  request  from  Mr.  Compton,  that  I 
would  come  back  to  him.  I  did  so,  and  found 
him  as  at  the  first ;  his  sister  supporting  him,  and 
the  nurse  having  disappeared.  Immediately  he 
said,  "  Dr.  Warton,  you  have  compelled  me  to 
abhor  myself,  and  to  tremble  still  more  than 
ever  for  my  future  lot.  A  fortnight  ago  my  heart 
was  stubborn  and  obdurate,  and  sorrow  for  sin 
could  not  obtain  admission  there.  It  was  in  my 
head,  but  it  did  not  reach  my  heart.  Now,  in- 
deed, it  is  no  longer  speculative  but  practical.  Yet 
there  is  no  merit  in  it  to  avail  me  any  thing. 
Here  I  am,  my  strength  is  laid  in  the  dust,  my 
nearest  friends  can  scarcely  recognize  my  features, 


160  THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT. 

another  blow  and  I  am  gone.  What  is  now,  then, 
the  value  of  all  my  past  pleasures  ?  The  memo- 
ry only  remains,  and  the  memory  is  a  scorpion ! 
Sorrow,  therefore,  in  my  case,  is  a  sort  of  neces- 
sary consequence :  it  is  no  virtue,  it  is  not  repent- 
ance, it  is  a  punishment ;  for  any  good,  it  is  like 
the  tears  of  Esau,  too  late  and  unavailable." 

The  matter  and  the  manner  of  this  speech 
were  pathetic  in  the  extreme.  Mrs.  Harrison's 
tears,  as  she  hung  over  her  brother,  dropped  upon 
him.  I  bore  up  much  better  than  I  could  have 
expected,  and  replied  with  sufficient  firmness, 
"  God  forbid  that  w.e  should  attempt  to  limit  his 
mercy !  His  invitations  to  repentance  are  full 
and  universal,  without  qualifications  and  without 
bounds,  and  the  examples  of  forgiveness  are  co- 
extensive. The  true  penitent,  the  spirit  which 
humbles  itself  under  correction,  may  look  upward 
and  revive.  You  remind  me  of  the  text  about 
Esau.  I  told  you  before  that  you  misconstrued 
it,  and  so  in  truth  you  do.  Esau  profanely  de- 
spised the  blessing  of  his  birthright,  and  sold  it  to 
another.  It  is  said,  therefore,  in  our  translation, 
(but  the  translation  is  inaccurate,)  that  he  found 
no  place  of  repentance,  although  he  sought  it  care- 
fully with  tears.  The  real  meaning  is,  that,  with 
all  his  tears,  flowing  as  they  did  from  his  heart, 
he  could  not  chansfe  the  mind  and  determination 


THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT.  161 

of  his  father.  His  father  had  spoken  propheti- 
cally by  the  impulse  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  He 
could  not  repent  or  retract  what  he  had  said. 
The  blessing  was  immutably  attached  to  Jacob. 
But  though  of  a  spiritual  character,  it  was  still  but 
a  temporal  blessing,  and  the  loss  of  it  did  not 
doom  Esau  of  necessity  to  an  eternal  condemna- 
tion. Yet  the  story  is  a  lesson  and  admonition  to 
us,  with  respect  to  the  great  spiritual  blessings  re- 
served for  us  in  heaven.  If  we  make  light  of 
them,  and  barter  them  away  for  the  present  sinful 
indulgences,  it  is  very  true  God  will  place  them 
beyond  our  reach,  and  we  ourselves  shall  be  found 
amongst  those  who  will  weep,  and  wail,  and 
gnash  their  teeth  in  vain.  All  this,  as  you  say, 
will  be  our  punishment.  It  will  work  no  change, 
no  repentance,  in  the  great  ruler  of  the  world. 
Our  trial  will  be  over,  because  our  life  will  be 
over  also.    But  whilst  there  is  life,  there  is  hope." 

Here  I  paused,  and  Mr.  Compton,  too,  was  si- 
lent,— ruminating  deeply,  as  it  appeared,  upon  the 
argument  suggested  to  him.  At  length  I  re- 
sumed— 

"  Yes,  I  say,  whilst  our  life  is  prolonged, 
there  is  hope  of  our  salvation :  unless,  indeed,  we 
have  apostatized  from  the  faith  of  the  gospel ;  un- 
less we  have  denied  the  great  Redeemer  who 
bought  us ;  unless  we  account  the  blood  of  his 
14* 


162  THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT. 

covenant  profane  and  useless.  If  this  were  so, 
then,  it  is  true,  to  whatever  extent  our  life  might 
be  prolonged,  and  however  sincere  and  afflicting 
our  repentance,  there  would  be  no  hope  for  us. 
No  repentance  built  upon  foundations  of  our  own 
invention,  upon  human  reason  or  natural  light, 
none,  in  short,  but  that  which  rests  in  Jesus  Christ, 
and  in  him  crucified,  will  arrest  the  decree  which 
our  sins  provoke.  God  the  Father  will  not  be 
approached  but  through  God  the  Son.  There  is 
but  one  mediator  between  God  and  man,  capable 
of  adjusting  the  differences  between  them  ;  name- 
ly, the  God-man,  one  who  partook  of  the  nature 
of  both,  and  was  therefore  qualified  to  transact  for 
both;  one  who  was  commissioned  by  God  the 
Father,  and  to  be  accepted  with  submissive  grati- 
tude by  us;  one  who  might  not  only  intercede 
for  us  by  supplication  and  prayer,  as  mere  man 
could  do,  but  plead  for  us  in  the  fullness  of  his 
Godhead,  and  say,  '  I  have  paid  down  the  whole 
stipulated  ransom  for  sinners ;  I  have  exemplified, 
by  my  sufferings,  the  divine  severity  against  sin, 
and  have  satisfied  all  his  demands;  I  have  sealed 
and  ratified  the  promise  of  forgiveness  with  my 
own  blood :  be  it  now  fulfilled ;  accept,  for  my 
sake,  almighty  Father,  accept  the  sacrifices  of  a 
troubled  spirit,  in  which  thy  nature  delights ;  de- 
spise not  the  sighings  of  a  broken  and   contrite 


THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT.  163 

heart,  which  ascend  to  thee  in  my  name.  I  am 
in  thee,  and  thou  art  in  me ;  and  let  every  poor 
penitent  upon  earth  be  one  with  %s.' " 

I  was  not  able,  nor,  had  I  been  able,  should  I 
have  been  disposed  to  attempt  to  add  any  thing  to 
this.  Nor  was  it  necessary.  In  a  moment,  in 
an  ecstasy  of  feeling,  the  sick  man  exclaimed, 
reaching  forth  his  hand  in  haste,  which  I  grasped 
with  equal  eagerness,  "  Ah  !  1  believe.  Dr.  War- 
ton  ;  I  believe — and  may  God  strengthen  my  be- 
lief! But  pray  for  me,  pray  for  me,  I  beseech 
you !" 

The  tears  burst  into  my  eyes,  but  immediately 
I  loosed  his  hand,  and  was  upon  my  knees.  Mrs. 
Harrison,  with  her  face  covered,  did  the  same. 
In  this  situation,  before  any  thing  was  said,  Mr. 
Harrison  came  in,  impatient  at  our  absence,  and 
was  soon,  without  uttering  a  word,  in  the  same 
posture  with  the  rest  of  us.  Then  bethinking 
myself  in  what  I  might  be  most  likely  not  to  fail, 
and  what  might  also  fit  for  the  present  circum- 
stances, I  drew  my  prayer-book  from  my  pocket, 
and  opening  at  the  Commination-service,  I  read 
the  penitential  psalm,  with  some  omissions  and 
alterations,  afterwards  the  longer  prayer  in  the 
same  service,  then  the  Lord's  prayer,  and  lastly, 
the  benediction  of  St.  Paul. 

So  I  rose,  and  wished  to  be  gone;  neither 


164  THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT. 

caring  to  have  my  own  feelings  observed,  nor  to 
observe  the  feelings  of  others.  But  Mr.  Compton 
arrested  my  step,  and  inquired  if  he  might  be  per- 
mitted to  receive  the  Sacrament.  "Yes,"  I  an- 
swered, "  when  you  will."  "  To-morrow,  then," 
he  said,  "  at  this  time,  let  it  be."  "  It  shall,"  I  re- 
plied, •'  if  God  will ;"  and  then  I  hastened  away. 
Mrs.  Harrison  remained  unmoved  in  the  same  at- 
titude of  prayer,  and  her  face  hid ;  Mr.  Harrison 
followed  me  to  the  door,  and  there  he  pressed  my 
hand,  but  could  not  articulate  a  sentence.  Thus 
closed  this  interesting,  this  consolatory  scene; 
and  thus,  I  silently  prayed,  may  God  often  bless 
and  reward  the  feeble  endeavors  of  his  appointed 
servants ! 

Before  the  day  was  over,  a  note  arrived  from 
Mrs.  Harrison,  to  apologize  for  having  permitted 
me  to  depart  without  her  thanks.  Her  sensations, 
she  said,  were  so  complicated,  that  she  could  not 
describe  them,  and  unhappily  they  had  deprived 
her  for  many  minutes  of  all  power  of  attending  to 
proprieties  of  behavior.  But  she  knew  that  I 
did  not  look  for  any  such  poor  recompense  as  that 
of  ceremonious,  or  even  of  real  gratitude.  What 
would  be  my  fullest  and  most  delightful  recom- 
pense I  already  had;  namely,  the  certain  con- 
sciousness, that  her  beloved,  but  unfortunate  bro- 
ther, was  fast  acquiring,  by  my  means,  the  temper 


THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT.  165 

and  disposition  of  a  Christian.  So  she  expressed 
herself.  The  next  day  I  kept  my  appointment. 
The  due  preparations  had  been  made  for  the  ad- 
ministration of  the  Sacrament  in  the  sick-chamber ; 
but  the  intended  communicants  were  not  assem- 
bled. Mr.  Compton  was  placed  as  yesterday, 
and  I  saw  distinctly  that  his  features  were  much 
restored  towards  their  natural  appearance.  On 
the  whole,  he  pronounced  himself  better  in  every 
way.  There  were  with  him  Mr.  Harrison  and  a 
nurse;  but  as  the  rest  appeared  to  be  slow  in 
coming,  he  motioned  the  nurse  away,  and  began 
to  converse  with  me  on  one  of  those  subjects 
which  now  chiefly  occupied  his  serious  thoughts. 

"  I  have  been  meditating.  Dr.  Warton,"  he 
said,  "  upon  the  holiness  of  God.  It  is  a  sublime, 
and  a  fearful  speculation." 

"  It  is,"  I  replied.  "  We  may  get  some  notions 
of  it  by  metaphysical  reasonings ;  but  those  no- 
tions will  be  astonishingly  enlarged  and  elevated 
by  Scripture.  The  descriptions  of  it  there  are 
magnificent  in  the  extreme,  and,  of  course,  when 
we  compare  ourselves  with  such  a  standard,  we 
shrink  back  with  awe  and  alarm.  When  we  are 
told,  that  the  Heavens  themselves  are  not  clean  in 
God's  sight ;  that  he  charges  even  his  angels  with 
folly ;  that  the  very  purest  spirits  which  encircle 
his  throne  veil  their  faces  with  their  wings,  and 


166  THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT. 

cannot  behold  the  dazzling  purity  of  their  Maker — 
we  have  an  apt  image  of  him  whose  name  is 
Holy;  whom  the  cherubim  and  seraphim  inces- 
santly laud  and  magnify  in  their  songs  with  the 
preamble  of  Holy,  Holy,  Holy;  and  the  rest  of 
whose  perfections,  however  ineffable  and  incon- 
ceivable, are  so  much  eclipsed  by  this,  that  it  is 
on  the  throne  of  his  holiness  that  he  delights  to 
sit — in  his  holiness  he  speaks — by  his  holiness  he 
swears.  But  then,  as  you  say,  the  idea  is  the 
more  terrific,  when  we  reflect  upon  ourselves, 
and  conclude,  as  we  must  of  necessity,  that  such  a 
Being  is  of  purer  eyes  than  to  tolerate  the  sight 
of  any,  the  least  stain  of  iniquity  in  his  rational 
creatures." 

"  It  is  too  true,"  he  said ;  "  and,  therefore,  who- 
ever wrote  that  particular  Psalm,  it  was  a  proper 
reflection  of  the  author,  that  if  God  should  be  ex- 
treme to  mark  what  is  done  amiss,  we  could  none 
of  us  abide  it." 

"No,  indeed,"  I  answered;  "the  very  purest 
actions  of  the  very  best  of  human  beings  would  be 
but  splendid  sins  in  his  estimation;  they  would 
look  only  like  failings  white-washed  over,  in  com- 
parison with  his  holiness.  The  eye  of  the  world 
might  see  no  flaw  in  them ;  the  eye  of  the  doer 
himself,  turned  inwards,  but  purblind  with  self- 
love,  might  discover  no  blot ;  but  every  flaw,  and 


•THE  MAIN  ARGUMENT.  167 

every  blot,  stands  out  and  glares  in  the  perfect  mir- 
ror of  the  divine  excellence.  If  the  mixed  motives 
of  men  were  analyzed,  there  would  be  found  lurk- 
ing amongst  them  too  much  of  human  frailty — too 
much  desire  of  vain  glory,  to  corrupt  what  other- 
wise might  have  been  sound  and  untainted ;  so 
that  their  actions  will  never  endure  the  scrutiny  of 
an  infinite  holiness.  If  this  be  so,  then,  what  are 
we  to  think  when  we  come  to  facts  ?  What  be- 
comes of  our  arrogant  assumptions,  when  we  re- 
collect, that  the  great  mass  of  us  do  not  merely  fall 
short  of  being  blameless,  but  are  absolutely  sin- 
ners ?  Nor  is  this  the  whole  of  our  case.  Every- 
thing proceeding  from  an  impure  fountain  must  be 
impure  itself  This  is  our  misfortune.  There 
is  an  original  uncleanness  about  us,  which  the 
Holy  One  cannot  behold  with  complacency ;  and 
which,  when  it  has  shown  itself  in  the  production  of 
its  proper  fruits  of  actual  sin,  he  must,  of  necessity, 
hate  and  loathe.  Where  are  we  now,  then,  and 
what  shall  we  do?  Shall  we  dare,  with  this 
gross,  tainted  flesh  about  us,  to  approach  him,  a 
pure  spirit,  that  inhabiteth  eternity — that  dwelleth 
in  the  high  and  holy  place  ?" 

"  Ah !"  exclaimed  Mr.  Compton,  "  I  under- 
stand it  now.  We  cannot  treat  with  him,  nor  he 
with  us.  We  want  somebody  to  smooth  and  facili- 
tate the  approaches  for  us ;  somebody,  call  him  what 


168  THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT. 

you  will,  to  mediate  between  the  two  parties ;  to 
intercede  in  behalf  of  the  inferior,  and  to  advocate 
a  cause  which  would  otherwise  be  hopeless." 

"  True,"  I  said,  delighted  that  he  had  solved 
the  difficulty  himself;  "  this  seems  a  simple  pro- 
position ;  but  who  is  there,  in  the  whole  universe 
of  things,  equal  to  such  a  task  ?  Who  is  there 
with  authority  to  undertake  it, — with  love  enough 
for  mankind,  in  their  fallen,  corrupt,  and  ruined 
state,  to  desire  their  recovery  from  it,  and  to  labor 
for  their  restoration  ?" 

"  I  presume,"  he  replied  immediately,  "  that  if 
men  had  been  left  to  themselves,  they  could  not 
have  found  anybody.  How,  indeed,  should  they 
set  about  it  at  all  ?  How  could  they  be  brought 
to  concur  in  one  person ;  and  how  could  they 
know  that  God  would  accept  his  office  ?  Indeed, 
they  were  dreadfully  ignorant  about  God  himself. 
The  probability  is,  therefore,  that  they  would 
never  once  have  thought  of  such  a  matter." 

"  Oh  !  pardon  me,"  I  said,  "  they  were  always 
thinking  about  it.  A  mediator  may  well  be  called 
the  desire  of  all  nations.  The  v/ant  of  this  was 
the  prolific  cause  of  all  those  inferior  deities  and 
innumerable  sacrifices  amongst  the  heathens. 
These  were  intended  to  approximate  them  to  the 
great  Being,  the  universal  Lord  of  all.  Every 
nation   had  its   peculiar   mediator;    nay,    almost 


THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT.  169 

every  individual ;  as  the  Papists,  absurdly  now,  iiave 
each  their  patron-saint.  But  one  man,  at  least,  in 
the  whole  world,  was  wise  enough  to  see  the  folly 
of  such  a  system — I  mean  Socrates — who  said 
that  men  would  never  have  any  certainty  with 
respect  to  this  great  want,  until  some  one  should 
be  sent  down  from  heaven  to  teach  them." 

"Yes,"  replied  Mr.  Compton,  "there  he  was 
undoubtedly  right.  It  is  manifest,  for  many  co- 
gent reasons,  that  the  first  proposition  must  come 
from  above." 

"  Clearly,"  I  said,  delighted  again  that  he  had 
himself  suggested  such  a  thought ;  "  if  men  had 
been  better  acquainted  with  God  than  they  really 
were,  yet  it  must  have  been  left  to  him,  as  the 
Sovereign,  to  declare,  whether  he  would  pardon 
sinners  on  any  conditions  ;  and  if  so,  then  on  what 
conditions ;  and  whom  he  would  ordain  to  the  im- 
portant office  of  making  those  conditions  known, 
and  of  carrying  them  into  effect." 

"  This  is  quite  reasonable,"  he  answered ;  "and 
so  far  the  Scripture-scheme  agrees  with  the  con- 
clusions of  our  reason.  But  now  explain  to  me, 
if  it  be  possible,  why  so  exalted  a  person  as  the 
Son  of  God  is  chosen  to  this  office.  Here  I  have 
great  difficulties.  I  admit  and  believe  the  fact ; 
but  I  cannot  understand  the  cause." 

"  There  is  no  need,"  I  said ;  "  but  still  a  very 
15 


170  THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT. 

satisfactory  cause  may  be  assigned.  Are  you 
aware,  that  Jesus  Christ,  the  Son  of  God,  was  the 
great  Agent  in  the  creation  of  all  things?" 

"I  was  always  aware,"  he  replied,  •' that  it 
was  supposed  to  be  so  stated  in  Scripture ;  and  I 
knew  of  the  famous  text,  in  the  beginning  of  John, 
which  is  generally  adduced  to  prove  it.  But  I 
confess  the  whole  thing  appeared  to  me  so  incredi- 
ble, that  I  never  examined  the  question  for  myself. 
Supposing  it,  however,  to  be  so,  how  does  his  be- 
ing the  Creator  account  for  all  the  rest?" 

•  "  You  shall  hear  what  I  think  about  it  pre- 
sently," I  said ;  "but  first  it  may  be  useful  to  you, 
if  I  were  to  repeat  the  splendid  passage  of  St. 
Paul  in  his  Epistle  to  the  Colossians.  After 
calling  Jesus  Christ  the  image  of  the  invisible 
God,  he  goes  on  in  this  manner :  'By  him  were 
all  things  created,  that  are  in  heaven,  and  that  are 
in  earth,  visible,  and  invisible,  whether  they  be 
thrones,  or  dominions,  or  principalities,  or  powers ; 
all  things  were  created  by  him,  and  for  him  ;  and 
he  is  before  all  things,  and  by  him  all  things  con- 
sist.' This  is  sublime,  it  must  be  allowed ;  but  is 
it  not  also  full  enough,  and  plain  enough,  to  satisfy 
the  most  scrupulous,  who  admit  the  Scriptures  at 
least,  that  Christ  made  the  worlds  and  man?" 

"  Without  all  doubt,"  he  answered. 

"  Well,  then,"  I  said,  "  now  hear  the  sequel ; 


THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT.  171 

*  This  same  is  the  head  of  the  body,  the  Church, 
that  in  all  things  he  might  have  the  pre-eminence. 
For  it  pleased  the  Father  that  in  him  should 
all  fullness  dwell ;  and,  having  made  peace  through 
the  blood  of  his  cross,  by  him  to  reconcile  all 
things  unto  himself  " 

"  A  most  striking  passage,  indeed!"  exclaimed 
Mr.  Compton.  "  It  asserts  or  implies,  I  think, 
every  office  that  divines  ascribe  to  Christ." 

"  It  does,"  I  said,  "  and,  what  is  more,  it  con- 
nects them  together.  But  tell  me ;  have  not  they, 
who  make  things,  generally  the  most  care  c6n- 
cerning  them?" 

"  So  it   should  seem   probable,"    he   replied. 

"  And  if  the  thing  made,"  I  said,  "  wei:e  so  won- 
derfui,  so  excellent,  so  noble  a  creature  as  man, 
do  you  suppose  that  the  Maker  would  care  the 
less  about  him,  or  the  more,  in  proportion  to  the 
distinguished  blessings  and  qualities  which  he 
bestowed  upon  him?" 

*♦  The  more,  certainly,"  he  answered. 

♦'  Do  parents,"  I  asked,  "  appear  to  you  to 
eare  what  becomes  of  their  children  ?" 

"  Intensely,"  he  replied. 

"  And  the  more  intensely,  perhaps,"  I  said, 
"  the  more  perfect  and  excellent  they  themselves, 
the  parents,  are?" 

♦*  I  should  imagine  so,"  was  his  answer. 


172  THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT. 

"  And  if  their  children  fall  into  danger  or  dis- 
tress," I  inquired,  "  do  not  the  bowels  of  their 
parents  absolutely  yearn  over  them ;  and  are  not 
all  their  affections  and  powers  let  loose  at  once, 
whether  to  pity,  to  succor,  or  to  restore  them?" 

"  No  doubt  of  it,"  was  his  reply. 

"  Well,  then,"  I  said,  "  Christ  made  man ;  and 
how  divine  the  work  was,  we  know  by  the  ruins 
of  it  which  remain,  although  so  dreadfully  defaced. 
What  wonder,  then,  that  he  should  compassionate 
the  workmanship  of  his  own  hands,  so  noble  a 
creature  fallen  from  the  high  estate  in  which  his 
bounty  had  placed  him,  and  in  danger  of  an  eter- 
nal misery  ?  Could  he  look  on  and  not  be  moved  ? 
Could  he  be  moved,  and  not  attempt  to  save  his 
own  offspring?  Could  he  suffer  the  most  glori- 
ous part  of  his  dominion  to  be  lost,  without  wish- 
ing and  endeavoring  to  recover  it?  Hence,  then, 
he  becomes,  he  who  was  the  Creator,  becomes, 
reasonably  and  naturally,  the  Mediator,  the  In- 
tercessor, the  Advocate,  the  Redeemer,  the  Sa- 
vior of  mankind.  Who  so  likely,  who  so  proper, 
to  undertake  and  fulfil  all  these  offices  for  them, 
as  he  who  made  them  at  the  first,  and  has  pre- 
served them  ever  since  by  his  providence  ?  And 
observe,  the  same  person  shall  at  last  be  our 
Judge.  Well,  therefore,  may  they,  who  accept 
him  under  all  those  offices,  anticipate  mercy,  and 


THE  MAIN  ARGUMENT.  173 

they,  who  despise  or  reject  him,  judgment  without 
mercy." 

Mr.  Compton  trembled,  but  made  no  answer ; 
and  at  this  instant  his  sister  entered,  with  several 
servants,  and  inquired  if  I  would  permit  them  to 
partake  of  the  Lord's  Supper  in  company  with 
their  master. 

"  By  all  means,"  I  answered,  "  It  is  a  very 
favorable  opportunity.  They  have  been  for  a 
long  time  the  inmates  of  a  sick  house:  this,  I 
should  expect,  must  have  awakened  in  their  minds 
serious  thoughts  with  regard  to  themselves.  We 
are  none  of  us  sure  at  any  time  beyond  the  single 
pulse  which  beats;  but  the  constant  sight  of  a 
death-bed  prevents  us  from  disguising  this  fact 
from  ourselves,  and  urges  us  forcibly  to  prepare 
for  that  destiny  which  awaits  us  all.  However, 
they  must  ask  themselves  this  question,  before  I 
put  it  to  them  in  the  course  of  the  solemn  service ; 
whether  they  are  at  peace  with  their  fellow-men, 
as  they  would  be  at  peace  with  their  God ;  and 
whether  they  grieve  for  their  past  sins,  and  hate 
them  so  far  as  to  resolve  henceforth,  to  the  best  of 
their  power,  to  walk  in  newness  of  life." 

"  I  have  examined  them.  Sir,"  said  Mr.  Har- 
rison, "  as  to  all  these  points,  and  their  answers 
are  very  satisfactory." 

*•  Very  well,  then,"  I  replied ;  '•  they  may  par- 
15* 


174  THE  MAIN  ARGUMENT. 

take  of  this  private  Sacrament ;  but  I  advise  them 
to  receive  the  Sacrament  publicly  in  the  church, 
upon  the  first  occasion  that  offers,  and,  indeed,  to 
establish  themselves  in  the  regular  practice  of  it. 
God  loves  the  celebration  of  his  ordinances  in  the 
appointed  places  ;  but  where  it  cannot  be  done,  as 
in  the  case  before  us,  we  trust  that  he  will  gra- 
ciously accept  the  will  for  the  deed." 

After  this  I  administered  the  holy  rite ;  and  a 
remarkable  circumstance  occurred,  which  at  first 
alarmed  me,  as  being  a  deviation  from  strict  order; 
but  it  appeared  to  produce  a  good  effect,  and  there- 
fore I  did  not  interrupt  it.  When  I  presented  the 
wine  to  the  sick  man,  he  held  the  cup  in  his  hand 
for  a  few  moments,  and  then  addressed  the  other 
communicants  as  follows  : — 

"  I  am  glad  to  see  so  many  of  you  present, 
upon  an  occasion  which  is  deeply  awful  to  my- 
self, and  may  be  very  useful  to  you.  The  greater 
part  of  you  know  only  my  calamities ;  there  are 
but  two  who  have  been  long  enough  in  my  ser- 
vice to  be  personally  acquainted  with  the  habits  of 
my  former  life,  before  I  was  roused  from  my  se- 
curity by  this  severe  but  merciful  blow.  I  intreat 
them  to  pardon  me  for  the  bad  example  which  I 
have  set  them ;  and  I  hope,  that  both  they,  and 
the  rest  of  you,  will  all  be  admonished  to  your 
profit  by  so  sad  a  spectacle.     I  have  sinned — I 


THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT.  175 

confess  it — ^basely  and  heinously;  I  have  done 
deeds " 

We  were  waiting  in  breathless  expectation  for 
the  conclusion  of  the  sentence.  He  began  it  with 
energy;  but  the  recollection,  I  presume,  of  the 
deeds  themselves — black,  no  doubt,  and  corroding 
the  conscience — suddenly  oppressed  his  voice,  and 
denied  utterance  to  any  thing  but  sighs.  In  an 
instant,  every  eye  that  was  upon  him  shed  tears 
of  sympathy.  At  length  he  was  aware  of  it,  and 
by  a  great  ejffort  resumed  his  speech. 

"  I  will  not  wound  your  feelings,  nor  waste 
your  time,  by  a  particular  enumeration  of  my 
sins,  or  by  aggravating  the  enormity  of  them.  I 
will  reserve  that  duty  for  my  own  conscience,  for 
the  great  God  above,  and  for  the  minister  of 
Christ,  if  he  require  it  of  me.  But,  believe  me, 
amongst  the  various  errors  and  sins  of  my  life,  I 
am  most  deeply  sorry  for  my  neglect  of  this  holy 
sacrament.*  I  have  partaken  of  it  but  twice  only  ; 
once  very  properly,  but,  alas !  without  any  due 
effect.     It  was  by  the  side  of  my  excellent  mo- 


♦  In  the  church  of  England  the  Sacrament  of  the  Lord's 
Supper  is  administered  to  all  who  are  willing  to  receive  it, 
and  it  is  required  as  a  preliminary  step  to  entering  upon  the 
duties  of  any  office  under  government.  Hence  the  rite  is  re- 
garded very  difTerently  from  what  it  is  in  this  country,  as  will 
be  seen  by  the  conversation  which  follows. 


176  THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT. 

ther's  death  bed.  Would  that  I  had  obeyed  all  her 
counsels,  which  her  departed  goodness  and  wis- 
dom should  have  sanctified  to  my  ears !  Per- 
haps  she   observes   me   now   from   her    sainted 

sphere,  and " 

Here  he  stopped  again  in  th€  bitterness  of  his 
soul.  All  our  tears  redoubled ;  his  sister  sobbed 
aloud ;  but  soon  once  more  he  resumed,  and  finish- 
ed. "  The  other  occasion,  upon  which  I  took  the 
Sacrament,  was  not  a  worthy  one.  It  was  a  mere 
form,  and  to  comply  with  the  laws  of  my  country, 
when  I  wished  to  become  a  magistrate.  Perhaps 
she  is  wrong  in  imposing  the  necessity  of  so  sa- 
cred and  awful  a  ceremony-  but  at  all  events^  I 
myself  was  wrong  in  taking  the  Sacrament  with 
worldly  views.  It  is  not  unlikely  that  my  mo- 
tives may  be  mistaken  noAv.  Some  one  may  sur- 
mise, that  I  am  constrained  by  the  fear  of  death. 
The  fear  of  death  has  been  wholesome  to  me,  I 
allow ;  and  I  thank  God  for  giving  me  the  two 
warnings  which  I  have  had.  But  I  am  under  no 
apprehensions  of  immediate  death.  On  the  con- 
trary, the  doctors  throw  out  hopes  of  life,  and  you 
yourselves  see  how  much  better  I  am  to-day.  1 
receive  this  Sacrament,  therefore,  deliberately, 
and  not  in  haste ;  from  conviction,  not  from  alarm ; 
with  gratitude,  and  warmth  of  affection,  not  with 
a  cold  thanklessness ;  with  hope,  and  not  in  de- 


THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT.  177 

spair.  I  receive  it,  with  a  firm  resolution  to  neg- 
lect it  no  more,  and  with  a  humble  prayer  that 
God  may  bless  it  to  my  present  and  everlasting 
welfare." 

This  being  said,  he  emptied  the  cup,  and  re- 
turned it  to  me ;  so  I  performed  what  remained  of 
the  ceremony,  and  took  my  leave,  expressing  my 
wish  aloud,  that  the  sick  man  might  be  left  as 
quiet  as  possible,  to  meditate  upon  the  solemn 
scene  which  had  just  been  acted,  and  to  realize 
some  of  its  immediate  benefits.  It  was  his  own 
wish  too,  he  said ;  so  we  all  retired  but  a  single 
nurse,  who  remained  to  watch  over  his  solitude. 

In  the  afternoon  of  the  following  day  I  visited 
Mr.  Compton  again.  He  had  given  directions, 
that  if  I  called,  I  should  be  brought  to  his  cham- 
ber at  once.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Harrison  were  with  him 
there.  He  was  well  enough  to  have  been  lifted 
from  his  bed,  and  placed  in  a  large  easy  chair, 
where  he  sat  wrapt  up  in  flannels,  and  supported 
with  pillows.  I  should  have  inferred,  from  the 
more  cheerful  air  and  relaxation  of  his  features, 
that  he  imagined  the  bitterness  of  death  to  be 
past ;  but  to  my  first  simple  observation  upon  his 
improved  appearance,  he  answered,  immediately, 
shaking  his  head,  and  contracting  his  brow,  "  I 
have  no  dependance  upon  it  whatever.  I  may 
live,  certainly ;  but  since  my  second  attack,  which 


178  THE  MAIN  ARGUMENT. 

was  almost  as  unexpected  as  the  first,  my  expect- 
ations of  life  have  been  much  diminished.  The 
present  calm  does  not  deceive  me.  No,  Dr.  War- 
ton,  it  is  not  so  much  the  freedom  from  pain,  and 
the  recovery  of  a  little  strength,  and  this  change 
of  situation  and  posture,  which  have  improved 
my  appearance ;  as  the  disburdening  of  my  con- 
science, the  practice  of  repentance,  the  belief  of 
the  Christian  religion,  the  knowledge  of  some  of 
the  reasons  upon  which  it  is  founded,  and  the  par- 
taking of  the  holy  Sacrament  yesterday.  These 
are  the  several  things,  which,  by  their  combined 
influence,  have  produced  the  effect  which  you 
perceive,  and  upon  which  you  congratulate  me. 
But  even  in  these  respects  I  have  much  to  do ; 
and  I  am  well  aware  how  humble  I  ought  to  be." 
All  this  was  admirable,  and  it  was  impossible 
not  to  be  delighted  with  it.  "  Very  well,  then," 
I  said,  "  you  have  now  proved  by  your  own  ex- 
perience, that  the  practice  of  repentance,  so  painful 
to  the  imagination,  is  not  so  painful  in  the  act ;  or, 
at  least,  that  it  is  attended  at  every  step  with  the 
consolation,  the  comfort,  and  the  revival  of  the 
broken  spirit.  It  is  not  like  the  sorrow  which 
ensues  upon  the  loss  of  worldly  things,  and  sinks 
the  man  down  to  the  confines  of  the  grave,  having 
no  support,  and  no  hope ;  it  is  a  sort  of  holy  sor- 
row ;  it  has  a  cleansing  power  derived  from  the 


THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT.  179 

merits  and  promises  of  the  Savior  ;  it  restores  the 
man  to  himself;  it  settles  him  in  a  peace  and  tran- 
quillity unknown  before ;  amidst  storms  and  tem- 
pests without,  it  introduces  a  sunshine  into  his 
own  breast ;  it  encourages  him  to  repose  on  the 
Mediator,  and  to  look  up  through  him  to  a  recon- 
ciled God.  This  is  the  process,  Mr.  Compton, 
through  which  you  yourself  have  gone ;  difficult 
and  painful,  and  almost  impossible,  when  con- 
templated from  a  distant  point;  but  satisfactory 
in  every  step,  and  most  happy  in  the  whole 
result." 

"  Yes,  indeed,"  he  replied,  "and  that  the  Sacra- 
ment has  crowned  the  rest.  In  the  way  in  which 
I  have  taken  it,  I  consider  myself  as  having  ac- 
knowledged one  main  truth  of  Christianity,  that 
Christ  died  for  the  sins  of  the  world.  I  under- 
stand it  to  be  a  memorial  of  his  death,  through  all 
ages ;  and  I  understand  the  receiving  of  it  to  be  a 
public  testimony  that  we  are  in  covenant  with  him. 
By  baptism  we  entered  into  that  covenant ;  by  this 
Sacrament,  I  presume,  we  keep  up  the  recollec- 
tion, and  put  in  our  claim  to  the  benefit  of  it." 

"  You  are  quite  right,"  I  said ;  "  but,  besides 
the  general  benefits  of  the  Christian  covenant, 
there  are  particular  and  immediate  benefits,  with- 
out doubt,  arising  to  all  who  partake  worthily.  It 
is  impossible  to  think,  that  Christ  is  himself  pre- 


180  THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT. 

sent  in  this  Sacrament,  without  some  peculiar 
blessing  attending  it." 

"  But  how  is  that  ?"  he  inquired.  "  Is  the  pre- 
sence of  Christ  any  thing  more  than  a  strong 
figure  for  his  influence  and  efficacy?" 

"  Yes,"  I  said,  "  he  is  really  present,  but  not 
bodily ;  neither  by  the  conversion  of  the  bread 
into  his  bodily  substance,  which  is  called  transub- 
stantiation,  nor  by  the  union  of  his  body  with  the 
bread,  which  is  called  consubstantiation ;  his  pre- 
sence is  after  a  spiritual  manner." 

"  It  seems,  then,"  I  continued,  "  that,  besides, 
the  general  benefits  to  be  expected  from  an  obe- 
dience to  the  dying  command  of  our  Savior,  and 
from  so  positive  a  profession,  as  we  make  at  the 
altar,  of  devoting  ourselves  to  his  service,  and  from 
the  sacred  act  of  acknowledging  the  inestimable 
value  of  his  death,  and  our  trust  in  it  as  an  atone- 
ment for  sin,  and  for  our  own  sins  in  particular ; 
besides  all  this,  there  is  something  else,  which  is 
more,  I  think,  than  a  mere  figure ;  some  invisible 
union,  perhaps,  which  takes  place  between  him- 
self and  us,  to  our  sanctification ;  some  seed,  as  it 
were,  implanted  within  us,  which  tends  thencefor- 
ward to  the  production  of  the  rich  fruits  of  right- 
eousness and  holiness  of  life.  And  this,  I  appre- 
hend, is  effected  by  the  intervention  of  the  Holy 
Ghost,  whom  I  formerly  represented  to  you  as 


THE  MAIN  ARGUMENT.  181 

bearing  a  most  important  part  in  the  great  busi- 
ness of  our  salvation.  In  fact,  Scripture  so  states 
the  matter,  that  without  the  help  of  the  Holy- 
Ghost  we  cannot  take  a  single  step  towards  that 
glorious  end ;  and  it  is  by  this,  his  spirit,  that  Jesus 
Christ,  as  the  God-man,  is  present,  and  acts  every- 
where. So  far  as  his  divine  nature  solely  is  con- 
cerned, he  is  every  where,  and  at  all  times  pre- 
sent personally,  like  God  the  Father;  but  in  his 
mixed  nature,  by  which  he  is  chiefly  related  to 
us,  he  himself  resides  in  heaven,  at  the  right 
hand  of  the  paternal  majesty,  and  his  spirit  is  his 
representative  here  upon  earth." 

"  Would  it  not  be  a  simpler  and  m.ore  intelligi- 
ble notion,"  inquired  Mr.  Compton,  "  if  we  were  to 
consider  the  Holy  Ghost  as  a  quality  rather  than 
a  distinct  person,  or  as  the  spirit  of  God,  in  the 
same  manner  that  the  soul  is  the  spirit  of  man  ?" 

"  It  is  purely  a  matter  of  revelation,"  I  an- 
swered, "  and  therefore  we  must  take  it  precisely 
as  it  is  revealed.  But  we  should  gain  nothing  in 
point  of  intelligibleness  by  the  notions  which  you 
suggest,  and  we  should  lose  in  other  respects.  If 
the  Holy  Ghost  were  to  God  what  the  soul  is  to 
man,  we  must  change  all  our  plainest  ideas  of 
God  himself,  whom  we  suppose  to  be  one  pure, 
unmixed,  and  unmodified  spirit;  and,  if  he  were 
merely  a  quality,  how  could  he  act  at  all  %  No, 
16 


182  THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT. 

nothing  can  be  clearer  than  that  the  Comforter,  as 
Christ  calls  him,  is  a  person  distinct  from  the 
Father  and  the  Son,  but  so  connected  with  them 
as  to  proceed  from  both.  The  origin  of  the  Son, 
we  are  told,  is  by  some  mode  of  generation  totally 
unknown,  and  inconceivable  by  us ;  yet  such,  no 
doubt,  as  to  occasion  that  peculiar  relation  which 
is  expressed  by  Father  and  Son.  Of  the  origin  of 
the  Holy  Ghost  we  know  nothing;  except  that, 
whatever  may  be  meant  by  his  proceeding  from 
the  other  two,  it  was  from  all  eternity.  And  this 
circumstance  of  his  being  eternal,  together  with 
the  other  things  ascribed  to  him  in  Scripture,  com- 
pel us  to  make  him  a  partaker  of  the  Godhead. 
The  work  eissigned  to  him  in  promoting  our  sanc- 
tification  and  salvation  requires  the  powers  of  the 
Godhead,  and  therefore,  it  is  of  deep  importance 
to  us  to  know  and  believe  that  he  has  them.  We 
rely  upon  him  with  an  unshaken  confidence,  be- 
cause we  are  assured  that  his  power  and  inclina- 
tion to  save  us  are  concurrent,  and  the  same  with 
those  of  the  Father  and  the  Son.  And  to  obtain 
his  mighty  aid,  we  have  only  to  pray  for  it  and  to 
use  it.  This  is  the  practical  part  of  the  doctrine, 
which  is  open  to  the  meanest  understanding,  and 
wants  no  metaphysical  interpretation." 

"Yes,"  said  Mr.  Compton,  "  I  perceive  all  that 
very  clearly.     There  is  a  simple  mode  of  viewing 


THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT.  183 

these  matters,  which  is  adapted  to  the  general  un- 
derstanding and  necessities  of  mankind ;  and  there 
is  another  which  may  occupy  the  highest  thoughts 
of  the  highest  genius." 

•'  So  it  is,"  I  replied,  "  but,  unfortunately,  many 
men  in  different  ages,  have  run  wild  in  their  high 
speculations,  and  thence  arose  the  expediency  of 
creeds  to  fix  the  boundaries  of  those  speculations. 
The  safe  thing  is,  to  adopt  this  rule  of  Scripture — 
*  The  secret  things  belong  unto  the  Lord  our  God, 
but  those  things  which  are  revealed,  belong  unto 
us,  and  our  children  for  ever.'  " 

In  this  sentiment  they  all  appeared  to  ac- 
quiesce, so,  after  a  short  pause,  being  desirous  to 
go,  I  proposed  that  we  should  kneel  down,  and 
join  together  in  a  short  prayer.  This  being 
readily  assented  to,  I  took  the  103d  Psalm  for  my 
basis,  and  altered,  and  added,  as  it  suited  my  ideas 
of  the  present  emergency.  The  effect,  apparently, 
was  such  as  I  might  have  wished.  I  then  pro- 
nounced the  Lord's  Prayer,  and  the  benediction ; 
which  being  finished,  I  rose  and  departed.  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Harrison  would  have  accompanied  me, 
but  I  did  not  permit  them. 

After  the  last  conversation,  I  saw  Mr.  Compton 
several  times,  and  talked  with  him  as  usual.  His 
faith  and  repentance  appeared  to  me  to  be  both  of 
them  lively  and  sincere,  and  I  was  glad  to  per- 


184  THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT. 

ceive  no  tendency  whatever  to  fanaticism  about 
him,  either  in  his  language  or  conduct.  The  lan- 
guage, indeed,  of  fanaticism,  which  betrays  itself 
in  an  instant  to  those  who  know  any  thing  of  it,  he 
had  never  learnt  or  heard,  and  it  does  not  come 
naturally  to  any  body.  His  conduct  always  disco- 
vered a  proper  self-humiliation,  and  a  true  distrust 
of  himself  Because  he  had  undergone  an  entire 
change  of  heart  and  sentiment,  he  did  not,  there- 
fore, assure  himself  of  his  indefeasible  salvation, 
or  arrogantly  assume  that  he  was  sealed  for 
heaven.  He  looked  back  upon  his  past  life,  and 
was  abased  in  his  own  eyes  ;  and  he  looked  for- 
ward, not  indeed  without  the  hope  of  a  modest 
diffidence,  but  still  with  much  of  its  fear  and  trem- 
bling. Perfect  love  casteth  out  fear,  and  he  was 
inclined  to  love  with  all  his  heart ;  but  he  had  yet 
had  no  experience  in  the  ways  of  God ;  his  condi- 
tion was  but  the  beginning  of  wisdom,  and,  there 
fore,  it  was  very  properly  accompanied  with  a 
wholesome  fear.  Of  this  feeling  I  greatly  ap- 
proved. I  am  shocked,  and  my  blood  almost  runs 
cold  within  me,  when  I  hear,  as  I  too  often  do,  of 
the  greatest  of  sinners,  with  no  time  for  solid  re- 
pentance, quitting  the  world  with  all  the  religious 
assurance  of  the  greatest  of  saints ;  dying,  in 
short,  in  the  worst  of  causes,  as  if  they  died  in  the 
very  best.     Even  the  thief  upon  the  cross  was 


THE  MAIN  ARGUMENT.  185 

humble,  and  acknowledged  his  own  baseness. 
Never  could  I  court  the  vain  applause  of  having 
worked  up  the  minds  and  imagination  of  the  pro- 
fligate to  a  feeling  of  security  with  respect  to 
another  world.  It  is  a  bad  example  for  others,  it 
is  deeply  hazardous  for  themselves.  The  convic- 
tion of  the  certainty  of  salvation,  is  not  salvation 
itself,  it  may  be  a  most  dangerous  downfall. 

During  this  interval,  Mr.  Compton  busied 
himself,  I  believe,  in  works  of  charity.  He  had 
been  too  selfish  before,  and  had  spent  his  whole 
income  upon  his  private  indulgences.  Now  he 
employed  his  sister  to  look  for  persons  in  distress, 
and  to  relieve  them ;  and  he  subscribed  liberally 
to  all  the  benevolent  institutions  of  the  parish. 
But  his  career  of  doing  good  was  short.  One 
night,  his  female  nurse  only  being  in  attendance 
upon  him,  came  the  third  paralytic  attack,  which 
ended  fatally. 

I  was  sent  for  early  in  the  morning.  He  was 
lying  in  his  bed  upon  his  back,  with  his  eyes 
closed.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Harrison  were  standing  by ; 
the  former  in  deep  thought,  the  latter  in  tears,  I 
spoke — his  lips  moved,  but  he  could  not  articulate 
anything.  I  pressed  his  hand  gently ;  he  grasp- 
ed mine  with  strength  without  loosing  it.  "  It 
pleases  God,"  I  said  aloud,  "  to  preserve  his  un- 
derstanding to  him  in  this  great  extremity.  Let 
16* 


186  THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT. 

US  seize  the  precious  moment,  and  spend  it  in 
prayer."  He  understood  me,  and  let  go  my  hand. 
Immediately  we  were  all  upon  our  knees,  and  I 
read  the  prayer  appointed  for  those  who  have  small 
hope  of  recovery.  When  it  was  finished,  1  rose 
and  took  his  hand  again  ;  and,  putting  my  face 
close  to  his,  I  asked  him  if  he  had  heard  and  com- 
prehended me.  I  thought  that  he  answered  "  yes," 
but  he  gave  me  a  sufficient  sign  by  pressing  my 
hand  with  vigor,  and  still  retaining  it.  I  aske4 
again  if  he  was  firm  in  the  faith  of  Jesus  Christ ; 
again  he  pressed  my  hand,  and  then  loosed  it.  I 
concluded  that  any  more  questions  would  only 
disturb  his  last  moments,  so  I  pronounced  over 
him  a  benediction,  and  prepared  to  go.  Indeed,  I 
could  do  no  more.  Hesitating  a  little,  at  length  I 
went  without  being  noticed ;  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Har- 
iiison  still  remaining  upon  their  knees. 

In  three  hours  I  returned,  expecting  to  hear 
that  all  was  over.  He  was  alive,  and  I  was  de- 
sired to  go  up  stairs.  Very  soon,  as  I  mounted 
them,  I  heard  a  dreadful  noise,  of  very  hard 
breathing,  which  it  is  difficult  to  describe.  I  start- 
ed at  first,  but  finding  it  to  be  repeated  at  regular 
intervals,  I  too  wxll  understood  what  it  was.  The 
door  into  the  eick-chamber,  at  the  top  of  the  stair- 
case, wa«  wide  open.  I  passed  rapidly  by  it,  but 
I  had  a  glimpse  of  the  dying  man  as  he  lay  in 


THE    MAIN    ARGUMENT.  187 

the  same  position  as  before,  with  his  nostrils  dis- 
tended, and  his  mouth  gaping.  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Harrison  were  in  the  sitting-room.  She  was  on 
her  knees,  and  her  husband  was  supporting  her. 
The  sight  had  been  too  appalling  for  them,  and 
they  had  retired  here. 

I  stepped  softly  into  the  adjoining  chamber, 
but  the  rolling  of  thunder  over  our  heads  would 
not  have  awaked  Mr.  Compton  now.  I  came  to 
the  side  of  his  bed,  knelt  down,  and  performed,  as 
well  as  I  could,  the  painful  duty  of  commending 
his  departing  spirit  to  the  Savior's  hands.  The 
noise  of  his  breathing  was  terrific ;  and  every  gasp 
seemed  as  if  it  would  be  the  last.  His  mouth 
foamed,  and  his  eyes  were  closed.  I  soon  de- 
scended the  stairs,  but  the  terrible  noise  pursued 
me  till  the  door  was  shut  upon  me.  In  imagina- 
tion I  heard  it  afterwards  wherever  I  went  during 
the  day.  The  next  morning  I  heard  that  the 
poor  patient's  sufferings  were  over. 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE   SPIRIT    OF   INFIDELITY. 

As  I  was  presiding  one  night  in  the  Select 
Vestry,  I  observed  a  poor  woman,  amongst  many 
others,  applying  for  Parochial  relief.  Her  hus- 
band's sickness  was  the  plea;  and  as  we  all  knew 
that  he  was  now  grown  old,  and  had  seen  better 
days,  her  request  was  granted  without  any  oppo- 
sition or  difficulty  whatever ;  and  without  putting 
any  questions  to  her,  which  might  have  wounded 
her  feelings  under  the  circumstances  of  her  dis- 
tress. Five  shillings,  however,  were  all  that  were 
given  at  that  time  out  of  the  rate  for  the  poor ;  and 
I  therefore  determined  to  visit  the  sick  man  the 
following  morning,  to  ascertain  by  inquiry  upon 
the  spot  what  was  his  real  condition;  to  assist 
him,  if  necessary,  out  of  my  private  charity  funds  ; 
and  more  especially  to  discharge  my  spiritual 
functions  for  the  good  of  his  soul. 

Indeed,  I  had  no  doubt,  that  this  was  the  help 
of  which  he  stood  most  in  need.  At  church  I  had 
never  seen  him  during  the  whole  course  of  my 
ministry.  Common  fame  reported  him  to  be  an 
Infidel,  or  even  an  Atheist.     His  habits  had  been 


THE    SPIRIT    OF    INFIDELITY.  189 

to  live  in  the  alehouse  amongst  the  lowest  com- 
pany, whom  he  harangued  against  the  govern- 
ment and  against  Christianity;  and  being  much 
superior  to  those  with  whom  he  associated,  and 
having  also  no  small  fluency  of  talking,  he  con- 
vinced and  corrupted  many  of  his  hearers.  In 
the  mean  time,  having  a  little  smattering  of  law, 
he  pretended  to  give  advice  upon  legal  matters, 
and  earned  a  penny  now  and  then  by  setting  his 
neighbors  together  by  the  ears.  If  letters  or  pe- 
titions were  wanted,  he  was  the  man  to  write  them 
for  what  he  could  get.  He  measured  land  also ; 
and  thus,  by  these  various  methods,  picking  up  a 
scanty  subsistence,  and  enjoying  continued  health, 
without  the  burden  of  a  family,  he  had  dragged 
on  to  the  age  of  three  score  years  and  ten ;  and, 
as  far  as  appeared,  never  once  troubled  himself 
with  the  thoughts  of  another  world,  which  was  to 
come  hereafter,  and  to  last  for  ever. 

To  myself,  without  knowing  me  personally, 
he  was  decidedly  hostile.  In  his  cups,  as  I  was 
informed,  he  never  ceased  to  abuse  the  Parson ; 
and  sometimes  I  was  assailed  by  anonymous 
letters,  which  were  suspected  to  come  from  his 
pen. 

Such  was  the  person,  whom  I  proposed  to  visit, 
under  the  favorable  circumstances  of  poverty  and 
sickness,  in  the  hope  that  I  might  take  advantage  of 


190  THE    SPIRIT    OF    INFIDELITY. 

them,  and  do  something  for  his  everlasting  benefit. 
His  house  was  at  the  distance  of  one  mile  and  a 
half  from  mine ;  but  upon  inquiry  I  found  that  he 
had  been  compelled  to  quit  it ;  that  all  his  best 
furniture  had  been  seized  and  sold  to  satisfy  the 
demands  of  the  landlord;  and  that  he  himself,  un- 
able to  walk  on  account  of  his  infirmities,  had 
been  carried  out  in  a  great  chair  to  an  obscure 
lodging  in  the  neighborhood.  All  this  betokened 
considerable  distress,  which  was  ordained,  no 
doubt,  by  the  good  providence  of  God,  to  create 
serious  reflection  upon  the  past,  and  to  awaken 
salutary  ideas  of  futurity.  Having  received  this 
information,  my  hopes  were  increased,  that  I 
might  be  a  successful,  although  a  humble  instru- 
ment in  God's  hands,  for  the  accomplishment  of 
his  gracious  purposes  of  love  and  mercy. 

In  the  cottage,  where  he  had  taken  up  his 
abode,  there  was  a  poor  family  living  on  the 
ground'floor ;  he  himself  and  his  wife  occupying  a 
single  chamber  above.  The  wife,  having  been 
called  down  to  me  below,  immediately  conducted 
me  up  to  her  husband.  He  was  setting  in  the  great 
chair  by  the  side  of  a  small  fire.  His  face,  which 
I  saw  first,  was  red  and  bloated,  and  his -eyes  in- 
flamed. His  feet,  legs,  and  thighs,  were  so  much 
swelled,  that  the  heels  of  his  shoes  were  down, 
and  the  knees  of  his  breeches  unbuttoned.     His 


THE    SPIRIT    OF    INFIDELITY.  191 

body  too  was  of  an  enormous  size,  both  because 
he  was  of  a  corpulent  habit,  and  in  consequence 
of  the  dropsy,  under  which  he  now  manifestly  la- 
bored. His  waistcoat  was  open  to  avoid  pres- 
sure. On  his  head  he  wore  a  red  night-cap. 
Close  by  him  was  a  table  covered  with  the  va- 
rious drugs  and  fomentations  which  his  disease 
required.  The  chamber  was  crowded  with  the 
wreck  of  his  property ;  an  old  bed  without  cur- 
tains;  some  broken  chairs;  pots,  kettles,  jugs, 
and  sundry  other  wares :  all  the  worse  for  use. 

The  best  chair  that  could  be  found  was  ap- 
propriated to  me;  which  his  wife  first  carefully 
dusted,  and  then  placed  in  the  most  vacant  spot. 
In  the  mean  time  she  had  already  introduced  me 
by  name,  but  she  did  not^  seem  to  comprehend 
who  I  was;  so  I  said,  "  I  have  been  told.  Sir,  that 
you  are  not  very  fond  of  ministers,  and  I  presume 
therefore  you  did  not  expect  that  a  minister  would 
come  to  see  you ;  no,  not  even  your  own.     But 
here  I  am ;  not  deterred  by  general  report ;  and 
my  intention  and  desire  is  to  do  you  all  the  good 
that  may  lie  in  my  power." 

"  Oh!"  he  replied,  »itis  Dr.  Warton,  is  ifi  I 
beg  your  pardon.  Sir  ;  T  did  not  know  you  Pray 
sit  down.  Sir.  I  fear,  Sir,  you  have  got  a  wrong 
opmion  of  my  character,  for  want  of  being  better 
acquamted  with  me.     I  have  a  great  many  ene- 


192  THE    SPIRIT    OF    INFIDELITY. 

mies  in  the  parish,  and  they  have  not  scrupled  to 
slander  me  to  you." 

"  Well,  well,"  I  said,  "  let  us  talk  and  think  no 
more  of  that ;  at  all  events,  we  will  be  friends  now, 
if  you  will.  And  you  may  be  perfectly  sure, 
that,  in  thus  visiting  you,  I  can  have  no  private 
interest  of  my  own  in  view.  Your  welfare  is  my 
sole  object." 

To  this  he  assented,  and  thanked  me  for  my 
kindness  towards  him. 

Having  thus  begun  with  tolerable  good  omens, 
I  proceeded  to  inquire  about  his  sickness,  express- 
ing my  fears  that  it  was  both  painful  and  danger- 
ous. In  answer,  he  was  very  communicative; 
and  it  appeared  that  his  disorder  was  distressing 
in  the  extreme;  a  vast  mass  of  water  collecting 
perpetually,  and  discharging  itself  through  every 
pore  of  his  body ;  and  his  respiration  being  at 
times  so  much  impeded,  that  he  had  scarcely 
breath  enough  to  tell  me  his  own  story.  He  had 
been  at  the  nearest  hospital,  in  an  early  stage  of 
his  complaint,  when  it  seemed  to  be  within  the 
reach  of  art ;  but  had  unwisely  returned  home, 
before  the  proper  system  was  tried,  because  he 
was  deprived  of  many  little  things  which  he  con- 
sidered essential  to  his  comfort.  Since  this  the 
disorder  had  increased  rapidly ;  yet  he  would  not 
admit  any  idea  of  danger.     In  fact,  he  was  mani- 


\ 


THE    SPIRIT    OF    INFIDELITY.  193 

festly  afraid  to  die.  I  put  him  in  mind  of  his  ad- 
vanced age,  and  of  the  usually  terrible  effects  of 
dropsy,  which  in  his  case  were  too  evident  even 
to  myself  Still  he  was  most  reluctant  to  enter- 
tain a  thought  of  death ;  and  he  proposed  to  me 
to  obtain  admission  for  him  into  another  hospital 
at  a  greater  distance,  but  where  the  medical  at- 
tendants, as  he  flattered  himself,  were  men  of 
greater  skill.  I  promised  to  do  this,  and  named 
a  day  in  the  following  week  for  his  departure. 

This  being  settled,  I  next  asked  him,  as  deli- 
cately as  I  could,  what  was  the  state  of  his  pecu- 
niary matters ;  insinuating  gently,  that  I  thought 
it  possible,  from  what  I  had  heard,  and  from  what 
I  now  saw,  he  might  want  a  little  assistance, 
which  I  should  be  able  and  happy  to  give.  On 
this  point  he  was  very  reserved,  and  would  not  at 
all  acknowledge  his  diflicuhies.  Of  course  he 
was  ignorant  that  I  knew  of  his  application  to  the 
parish ;  and  1  thought  it  might  be  very  detrimen- 
tal to  the  success  of  my  other  objects,  if  I  then 
mentioned  it  to  him ;  so  I  turned  it  off,  by  saying 
that  I  would  talk  that  matter  over  with  his  wife, 
when  I  went  away.  I  did  so  at  the  door,  stating 
my  surprise  also  that  he  should  endeavor  to  con- 
ceal his  circumstances  from  me.  **  Ah !  Sir,"  she 
said,  "  pride,  pride,  is  the  cause.  He  has  too  high 
notions  to  confess  his  poverty;  and  yet,  without 
17 


194  THE    SPIRIT    OF    INFIDELITY. 

the  relief  which  I  had  last  night  from  the  officers, 
we  should  have  been  in  some  danger  of  starving.'* 
I  gave  her  what  was  necessary  for  the  present, 
promising  to  add  to  it  hereafter ;  and  I  thought 
with  myself,  that,  possibly,  his  prejudices  against 
me,  not  yet  sufficiently  softened  down,  having  led 
him  to  consider  me  his  enemy,  he  was  unwilling 
to  furnish  me  with  that  sort  of  triumph,  which  an 
enemy  might  have  enjoyed  in  witnessing  his  desti- 
tute condition.  Afterwards,  when  he  knew  me  bet- 
ter, he  had  no  false  shame,  or  other  difficulty  about 
it ;  but  received  my  offers  readily  and  gratefully. 

However,  I  was  now  to  come  to  the  most  im- 
portant subject,  without  being  in  possession  of  this 
great  advantage ;  and  I  said,  "  Your  woildly  af- 
fairs, I  fear.  Sir,  are  in  a  very  unprosperous  state ; 
and  your  body  is  certainly  afflicted  with  a  dread- 
ful disease.  What  is  there  in  your  case  to  bear 
up  your  spirits  under  such  an  accumulation  of 
calamity?  Your  mind,  I  hope,  is  not  diseased, 
as  well  as  your  body." 

"  My  mind,"  he  replied,  rather  sternly,  as  dis- 
liking to  be  questioned,  and  yet  by  no  means 
with  the  tone  of  a  man  really  tranquil  at  heart,  "my 
mind  is  quite  at  ease.  Sir ;"  but  his  whole  coun- 
tenance and  restless  air  showed  that  is  was  not  so. 

I  saw  it ;  but  I  said,  "  I  wish  indeed  it  were 
so;  provided  your  tranquility  were  founded  on 


THE    SPIRIT    OF    INFIDELITY.  195 

solid  grounds.  To  be  called  out  of  this  world 
into  eternity  with  an  uneasy  conscience,  is  most 
terrible;  but  it  is  equally  unsafe  to  depart  with  false, 
delusive  hopes.  May  I  be  permitted,  therefore, 
to  ask  you,  (as  I  am  sure  I  ask  only  for  your  own 
good,  and  not  out  of  an  idle  curiosity,  or  with  any 
foolish  desire  of  disputation,  under  such  circumstan- 
ces,) what  those  grounds  are  on  which  you  rely?" 

"  I  will  tell  you  plainly,"  he  answered  ;  "  if  I 
die,  of  which,  however,  I  do  not  see  any  present 
danger,  I  shall  either  be  nothing  at  all,  or  I  shall 
not  be  miserable.  My  conscience  does  not  ac- 
cuse me  of  any  crime." 

"  It  seems,  then,"  I  said,  "  that  you  think  it 
possible  that  death  may  be  followed  by  an  entire 
annihilation ;  but  also,  on  the  other  hand,  thinking 
it  possible,  likewise,  that  there  may  be  a  future 
state,  which  will  be  a  state  of  retribution,  you  have 
made  due  preparation  for  this  latter  alternative." 

To  this  he  answered,  without  hesitation,  **  I  do 
not  pretend  to  have  made  any  other  preparation, 
than  by  doing  justice  always  to  my  neighbors." 

"  Alas  !  alas !  Sir,"  I  replied,  "  does  not  the  ex- 
perience of  us  all  agree  in  this  with  Scripture, 
'that  there  is  not  one  just  man  upon  earth,  who 
doeth  good  and  sinneth  not?'  " 

He  took  up  the  word  Scripture  hastily,  and 
said,  "  I  have  no  objection,  Sir,  to  talk  with  you; 


196  THE    SPIRIT    OF    INFIDELITY. 

but  with  what  you  call  Scripture  I  have  nothing 
to  do.  I  put  no  faith  in  it.  We  do  not  want  it. 
Let  a  man  do  his  duty,  and  he  has  nothing  to  fear." 
This  he  spoke  with  a  most  decided  air,  and  collect- 
ing all  his  breath  to  utter  the  sentiment.  His  ve- 
hemence, indeed,  exhausted  him ;  and  he  was  com- 
pelled to  pause  before  he  could  finish  his  sentence. 
It  v^ras  too  evident  that  he  wished  Christianity  to  be 
false. 

I  interposed  with  coolness ;  *'  But  you  will 
admit,  I  suppose,  Sir,  the  morality  of  the  gospel 
at  least ;  and  therefore,  must  consent  to  be  tried  by 
it,  as  the  rule  of  your  actions." 

"I  allow,"  he  said,  "the  morality  of  the  gos- 
pel to  be  excellent.     But  what  is  that  to  me  ?" 

"  It  concerns  you  in  this  manner,"  I  replied  ; 
•*  every  man  must  be  tried  according  to  the  best 
rule  with  which  he  is  acquainted.  If  the  morals 
of  the  gospel  be  the  best  that  we  know,  which  you 
seem  to  grant,  we  must  be  tried  by  those  morals. 
You  would  not  have  a  man,  I  presume,  who 
knows  a  superior  law,  to  be  tried  afterwards  by 
an  inferior  one  ?  Put  the  divine  origin  of  the  law 
for  the  present  quite  out  of  the  question  ;  and  yet 
you  see,  that  if  your  conscience  tells  you  that  one 
law  exceeds  another  in  perfection,  it  tells  you,  at 
the  same  time,  that  you  must  obey  the  better  law, 
and  that  you  will  be  judged  by  it." 


\ 


THE    SPIRIT    OF    INFIDELITY.  197 

He  was  apparently  staggered  and  alarmed, 
looking  as  if  he  was  afraid  that  he  should  be  sur- 
prised into  some  conclusion,  which  he  might  not 
like ;  but  I  did  not  wish  to  profit  by  his  temporary 
confusion,  and  so  endeavor  to  push  the  argu- 
ment further  than  it  would  reasonably  go.  I  con- 
tinued, therefore,  in  this  manner: — "You  tell  me 
that  your  consience  accuses  you  of  no  crime ;  and 
that  you  have  always  done  justice  to  your  neigh- 
bot.  But  how  has  your  conscience  been  enlight- 
ened ?  What  notions  have  you  formed  of  crimes, 
of  justice,  of  your  neighbor?  He  who  would  be 
most  enlightened  on  these  subjects,  must  study  the 
gospel;  and  he  who  would  discharge  all  his  du- 
ties with  propriety,  to  God  and  man,  must  make 
the  gospel  his  model.  This  cannot  be  well  de- 
nied. Have  you,  therefore,  done  this,  which  you 
are  bound  to  do  by  natural  reason  7  And  if  you 
have  tried  to  do  it,  do  you  not  perceive,  instantly, 
your  own  deficiencies  ?  When  you  compare  your 
life  with  the  perfect,  holy,  sublime  law  of  the  gos- 
pel, do  you  not  see  and  acknowledge  immediately, 
how  far,  how  astonishingly  far,  you  have  come 
short  of  the  glory  of  God?  If  I  were  to  scruti- 
nize your  actions  from  your  youth  upwards,  could 
you  lay  your  hand  upon  your  heart,  and  say,  all 
these  I  have  faithfully  performed  ?  Has  the  fear 
of  God  been  constantly  before  your  eyes?  Have 
17* 


198  THE    SPIRIT    OF    INFIDELITY. 

you  loved  him  with  all  the  faculties  of  your  heart 
and  mind ;  and  prayed  to  him  for  his  blessings ; 
and  thanked  him  for  every  mercy,  even  when  he 
afflicted  you?  What  has  been  your  conduct  to 
your  parents?  Did  you  never  wilfully  disobey 
them,  or  create  them  any  pain  ?  How  have  you 
served  your  king  and  country  ?  Have  you  never 
misrepresented  his  government  and  actions,  so  as 
to  render  others  dissatisfied  with  them,  and  thus  to 
become  discontented  subjects?  Have  you  never 
spoken  evil  of  dignities ;  which  the  gospel,  con- 
sulting the  peace  and  happiness  of  mankind, 
strictly  forbids?  Have  you  extended  your  ideas 
of  neighborhood  as  the  gospel  directs  you,  so  as 
to  embrace  within  the  compass  of  it,  countryman 
and  stranger,  friend  and  enemy ;  and  especially 
every  child  of  sorrow  ?  And  then,  have  you  been 
active  in  performing  all  the  duties  that  spring  from 
these  wide  relations  ?  Have  you  loved  your  very 
enemies?  Or  have  you  indulged  the  sinful  pas- 
sions of  hatred,  envy,  and  malice,  towards  them  ? 
Have  you  ever  taken  vengeance  into  your  own 
hands,  and  not  left  it  to  God?  Lastly,  have  you  ne- 
ver violated  any  of  the  pure  laws  of  temperance, 
sobriety,  and  chastity ;  neither  polluting  yourself 
by  sensual  vices,  nor  ruining  others  by  the  act  or 
by  the  example,  from  your  youth  up,  until  now  ?" 
Thus  I  ran  through,  as  rapidly  as  possible,  the 


\ 


THE    SPIRIT    OF    INFIDELITY.  199 

whole  summary  of  the  moral  duties  ;  not  suffering 
him  to  interrupt  me,  which  he  attempted  again 
and  again,  Avhere  he  felt  his  conscience  clear  as  fo 
any  particular  charge ;  but  intending  to  over- 
whelm his  self-sufficiency,  by  the  very  multipli- 
city and  variety  of  the  subjects  for  self-examina- 
tion, which  I  poured  out  upon  him  altogether,  in  a 
mass.  And  then,  I  summed  up  the  matter  in  a 
few  words,  saying,  "  Is  there  now  a  single  man  in 
the  world  so  little  acquainted  with  himself,  as  to 
think,  that  when  he  stands  face  to  face,  before  the 
great  Judge,  he  might  venture  to  plead,  that  he  is 
guiltless  in  all  these  respects ;  that  he  has  perfectly 
corresponded  to  the  designs  of  Providence  in 
making  him;  and  that  he  is  entitled  to  the 
infinite  rewards  of  a  future  state  ?  On  the  con- 
trary, would  not  the  very  best  of  men,  who  are 
always  the  most  humble,  cry  out,  '  we  are  sin- 
ners ;  we  will  shut  our  mouths  before  God,  or 
only  ask  for  pardon?'  " 

I  was  myself  visibly  affected  by  my  own  argu- 
ments, and  by  the  earnestness  with  which  I  had 
spoken ;  but  the  sick  man  was  little  moved,  out- 
wardly, at  least;  and  at  all  events,  he  showed  no 
disposition  to  concede  any  thing,  but  a  determina- 
tion to  resist  to  the  last  extremity.  For  he  said, 
*'  If  I  am  deficient  in  any  thing,  I  owe  it  to  my  na- 
ture.    God  is  the  author  of  every  man's  nature — 


200  THE    SPIRIT    OF    INFIDELITY. 

God  implanted  in  us  all  our  appetites  and  pas? 
sions;  and,  therefore,  if  we  follow  the  bent  of 
them,  he  has  no  reason  to  be  angry,  and  conse- 
quently will  not  punish  us." 

"  You  put  yourself,"  I  replied,  "  upon  the 
same  level  with  the  brute  beast,  and  forget  that 
you  have  a  rational  part  of  your  nature  which  the 
brute  beast  has  not,  and  which  raises  you  above 
him.  And  reason  is  so  manifestly  superior  to 
every  other  part  of  your  nature,  that  you  may  see 
at  once,  that  it  is  not  only  fit,  but  intended  by  Pro- 
vidence, to  govern  the  rest ;  that  no  injury  may 
arise  to  the  man  himself,  or  to  the  community ; 
and  that  the  Creator  may  be  glorified  by  the  pro- 
per use  of  that  pre-eminence  which  he  has  be- 
stowed. If,  therefore,  we  follow  the  bent  of  our 
appetites  and  passions,  and  suflfer  them  to  domi- 
neer over  our  reason,  instead  of  being  regulated  by 
it,  we  have  not  done  our  duty;  we  have  not  acted 
correspondently  to  the  capacities  of  our  whole  na- 
ture; we  have  dishonored  our  Maker;  we  de- 
serve his  wrath,  and  must  expect  to  be  punished. — 
Is  not  this  so  ?" 

"  Suppose  it  were,"  he  answered  ;  "may  we  not 
be  sorry  for  what  has  been  done  amiss ;  and  cor- 
rect our  errors,  if  there  be  any;  and  amend  our 
lives,  if  they  require  amendment ;  and  will  not 
this  satisfy  God,  and  avert  his  anger  ?     Your  own 


THE    SPIRIT    OF    INFIDELITY.  201 

gospel  allows  the  efficacy  of  repentance,  and  re- 
commends it." 

"  It  does  indeed,"  I  said;  "  but  only  upon  one 
condition ;  which  condition  implies,  that  you  em- 
brace the  gospel  as  true,  and  believe  and  trust  in 
it.  Do  this,  and  then  repentance  will  be  accepta- 
ble to  God,  through  Jesus  Christ." 

"  I  cannot  do  it,"  was  his  answer.  "  Nature 
teaches  repentance ;  and  that  is  sufficient.  I  hold 
by  nature." 

"  A  bad  support,  it  is  to  be  feared,"  I  said, 
*'  for  any  of  us  in  our  present  circumstances. 
For  what  is  to  become  of  all  the  past  1  Will  sor- 
row for  it  undo  it  ?  Will  even  the  most  complete 
change  and  reformation  of  life  for  the  future,  undo 
the  past  ?  And,  if  you  are  in  the  right  way  now, 
it  is  no  more  than  what  you  ought  to  have  been 
always ;  and  cannot,  therefore,  excuse  you  for  the 
time  in  which  you  went  wrong.  The  God  of  na- 
ture requires  a  perfect  obedience  to  his  laws,  in 
every  period  of  your  existence.  You  cannot  make 
a  bargain  with  him  to  be  vicious  in  one  period, 
and  virtuous  in  another.  It  is  plain,  therefore, 
that  even  a  sincere  repentance  can  supply  no  solid 
ground  of  peace  and  security,  without  God's 
authority  to  that  effect;  and  such  an  authority 
cannot  be  had  without  a  revelation  from  heaven. 
And  whose  repentance  was  ever  so  sincere  and 


20^  THE    SPIRIT    OF    INFIDELITY. 

complete,  as  not  to  need  a  second  repentance  ?  In 
fact,  is  not  the  whole  life  of  the  generality  of  man- 
kind, an  alternation  of  sin  and  repentance,  repent- 
ance and  sin  ;  until  death  overtakes  them  at  last  ?" 
He  could  not  deny  it ;  but  still  he  persisted  in 
saying,  that,  there  were  so  many  objections 
against  Christianity,  that  he  could  not  admit  it, 
even  with  any  advantage  which  it  might  offer 
to  him.  Upon  this,  I  rose  up,  and  took  my 
departure ;  not  being  able  to  spare  more  time  for 
conversation  at  present ;  but  I  besought  him,  as 
he  valued  eternity,  to  examine  himself  well,  and 
not  allow  himself  to  be  deceived  in  his  dying 
hours.  It  was  clear,  that,  whilst  he  could  not 
pretend  but  that  his  opinions  were  shaken,  and 
that  he  was  absolutely  beaten  out  of  some  of  the 
common  holds  of  infidelity,  it  had  wrought  no 
joy,  but  sorrow  in  his  heart. 

At  my  next  visit  I  found  him  sitting  on  the 
bed-side.  He  was  alarmingly  worse ;  the  other 
parts  of  his  dress  were  the  same  as  before ;  but  he 
was  without  a  coat ;  the  disease  had  made  such 
inroads  upon  every  part  of  his  body,  that  it  did 
not  seem  possible  for  him  to  bear  up  against  it 
much  longer.  His  eyes  were  still  more  inflamed, 
yet  gkssy  and  dim.  To  my  first  questions  about 
his  present  state  of  disease,  he  gave  in  answer,  a 


THE    SPIRIT    OF    INFIDELITY.  203 

most  piteous  account  of  himself;  no  appetite,  no 
rest,  no  power  of  breathing.  All  idea  of  the 
more  distant  hospital  was  quite  abandoned.  To 
convey  him  there  alive  appeared  to  be  absolutely- 
impossible  ;  yet  he  flattered  himself,  that  he  might 
rally  sufficiently  to  go  to  the  nearer  hospital 
where  he  had  been  before.  He  was  evidently 
more  then  ever  afraid  to  die,  whilst  the  last  thread 
was  about  to  snap  asunder,  and  to  plunge  him  into 
eternity. 

Anxious  for  his  eternal  welfare,  I  now  said, 
"  It  is  my  painful  duty  to  tell  you,  Sir,  that  your 
life  is  in  imminent  danger — God  only  knows  how 
short  the  remnant  of  it  may  be !  Your  disorder 
is  most  certainly  advancing  with  rapid  strides,  and 
your  doctors  declare  that  nothing  can  be  done  for 
your  relief  by  the  power  of  medicine.  In  some 
cases  it  would  not  be  so  painful  to  me  to  behold 
the  approach  of  death ;  but  in  your  case  it  is 
beyond  measure  painful,  because  I  perceive  that 
you  have  cast  away  the  only  staff  upon  which  you 
might  have  supported  yourself  with  firmness, 
against  all  its  terrors.  But  is  it  indeed  true.  Sir, 
that  you  have  cast  away  this  staff?  Was  not  our 
last  conversation  sufficient,  imperfect  as  it  was,  to 
show  you  that  there  was  nothing  secure  but  in 
Revelation  ?  To  take  up  the  matter  as  we  begun; 
is  it  not  undeniable,  that  we  are  all  so  defective,  as 


204  THE    SPIRIT    OF    INFIDELITY. 

to  Stand  in  need  of  a  Savior  ?  And  if  we  are  hum- 
ble enough  to  feel  this,  can  any  doctrine  be  so 
worthy  of  acceptation,  so  consolatory,  so  cheering, 
as  that  which  teaches  us  that  there  is  such  a  Sa- 
vior, and  that  he  is  the  Son  of  God  himself?" 

It  chilled  me  with  horror  to  behold  the  sick 
man,  as  I  said  this,  preparing  himself  to  utter  his 
cavils  against  the  glad  tidings  of  mercy ;  for  his 
countenance  betrayed  the  intentions  of  his  heart. 
His  head  gray  with  age;  his  body  sinking  under 
the  force  of  a  deadly  disease;  his  feet  on  the  very 
verge  of  the  grave  ; — he  commended  not  his  spirit 
into  the  hands  of  that  mighty  Being  who  gave, 
it ;  he  prayed  not  that  it  might  be  presented  to 
Him,  purified  by  the  blood  of  the  Lamb ;  he  paused 
only  to  rally  his  failing  breath,  that  he  might  ex- 
pend even  the  last  particle  of  it,  as  it  should  seem, 
in  depreciating,  in  overturning  the  gospel,  with 
almost  malicious  vehemence.  But  since  God 
could  bear  with  him,  I  ought-  not  to  be  impatient ; 
I  suppressed  my  rising  indignation ;  and  combi- 
ning his  broken  and  disjointed  sentences,  I  pro- 
ceeded, as  calmly  as  I  could,  and  as  far  as  seemed 
necessary,  to  refute  them. 

But  first,  I  said,  "  I  perceive.  Sir,  and  I  do  it 
with  deep  unaffected  sorrow,  what  wretched  books 
have  been  your  study;  you  have  been  learning, 
only,  in  the  ignorant  and  impious  school  of  Paine 


THE    SPIRIT    OF    INFIDELITY.  205 

and  CarJile;  you  have  drank  down  their  poison, 
without  trying  or  searching  for  the  antidote.— 
God  forgive  both  them  and  you  !  One  indeed  is 
gone  to  his  everlasting  account;  his  destiny  is 
fixed  j  and  I  pray  not  for  him. — The  other,  in 
prison,  atones  for  the  offended  laws  of  his  country 
and  his  God ;  I  pray  for  him,  and  I  pray  for  you; 
that  it  may  please  infinite  Goodness  to  prolong 
your  existence,  and  to  mitigate  your  sufferings, 
that  you  may  have  both  time  and  power  to  make 
your  peace  with  God,  through  Christ,  before  vou 
die."  ^ 

I  was  naturally  raised  above  the  tone  of  con- 
versation; and  I  was  willing  to  think  that  he  was 
somewhat  awe-struck  by  the  solemnity  and  the 
devotion  of  my  appeal  to  Heaven  for  him.  How- 
ever, I  continued :  "  Let  us  look  at  some  of  your 
objections,  candidly.  One  of  them  is,  that,  the 
gospel  cannot  be  from  God,  because  it  is  so 
recent,  and  not  universal.  If  it  be  of  such  vast 
importance  to  mankind,  why  was  not  it  revealed 
sooner,  and  v^hynot  to  all?— All  have  alike  souls 
to  be  saved,  and,  therefore,  all  are  alike  con- 
cerned.—Is  this  the  force  of  your  objection?" 

He  assented. 

"  Now  tell  me,  then,"  I  said,  "  whether  Go. 
be  the  creator  of  the  world  ?" 

"  I  allow  it,"  was  his  answer. 
18 


206  THE    SPIRIT    OF    INFIDELITY. 

"  Did  he  create  it  in  some  definite  period  of 
time,  or  from  all  eternity  ?"   I  asked. 

He  confessed,  from  what  he  had  seen  of  men, 
and  of  the  world  itself,  in  his  various  and  exten- 
sive travels,  that  it  could  not  be  eternal. 

"Suppose  then,"  I  said,  "a  person  should  ob- 
ject that  the  world  was  not  created  by  God,  be- 
cause it  was  of  comparatively  so  late  origin ;  you 
see  there  would  be  no  truth  in  the  objection. 
And  although  God  intended,  in  creating  a  new 
world,  to  communicate  happiness  to  his  creatures, 
might  he  not  have  had  wise  reasons  for  creating 
it  no  earlier,  whether  we  can  discover  those  rea- 
sons or  not  ?  Must  he  not  indeed,  as  he  is  infi- 
nitely wise,  have  had  the  wisest  reasons  for  doing 
what  he  did,  at  the  time  he  did  it  ?" 

The  sick  man  could  not  deny  it. 

"  Apply  then,"  I  said,  "  the  same  reasoning  to 
the  case  of  the  Christian  revelation ;  and  why 
should  we  draw  a  different  conclusion  ?  In  fact,  it 
is  not  analogous  to  the  rest  of  the  dealings  of 
Providence,  to  communicate  any  particular  gift,  al- 
though, it  may  have  an  evident  tendency  to  increase 
the  happiness  of  mankind,  so  early  as  we  might 
think  most  suitable  to  the  divine  goodness ;  but  in 
he  case  of  Christianity,  men  were  actually  not 
prepared  for  the  reception  of  it  in  any  earlier 
)eriod.     It  could  not  have  been  understood  at  the 


THE    SPIRIT    OF    INFIDELITY.  207 

time ;  it  could  not  have  been  proved  to  after  ages. 
God,  however,  has  graciously  made  the  benefits 
of  it  applicable  to  all  ages,  as  well  antecedent  as 
subsequent  to  the  delivery  of  it.  In  the  plans  of 
infinite  wisdom  and  goodness,  the  Lamb  was  slain 
from  the  foundations  of  the  world ;  and  the  atone- 
ment for  sin,  which  was  made  by  his  blood,  has 
extended  to  every  man,  who  acted  according  to 
his  natural  light,  and  trusted  in  God.  Meanwhile, 
preparation  was  made  for  the  actual  introduction 
of  the  gospel ;  by  setting  apart  the  Jews  for  the 
worship  of  the  one  true  God ;  by  committing  to 
their  care  and  study,  numerous  promises  and  pro- 
phecies relating  to  that  gospel  ;  and  by  disposing 
and  ordering  the  affairs  of  other  nations  in  such  a 
manner  as  to  make  them  facilitate  and  concur  in 
the  establishment  of  it.  In  short,  Sir,  it  would 
require  a  volume  fully  to  explain  this  matter,  and 
to  give  the  glory  which  is  due  to  its  great  Au- 
thor ;  but  this  simple  outline  is  quite  enough  to 
open  any  man's  eyes  to  view  the  subject  in  its 
proper  light,  and  to  induce  him  to  confess,  that  a 
mere  general  objection  against  the  gospel,  on  the 
ground  of  the  lateness  of  the  promulgation  of  it, 
is  both  weak  and  untenable." 

He,  indeed,  was  not  so  candid  as  to  make  this 
confession;  but  by  his  silence  he  admitted  that 
he   had  nothing  to  say  to  the  contrary;  and  I 


208  THE    SPIRIT    OF    INFIDELITY. 

therefore  went  on.  '*  The  gospel,  you  object,  has 
not  been  preached  to  all  mankind — But  could  it 
have  been  preached  to  all  mankind  at  once  ?"  He 
allowed,  that  it  required  time  and  opportunity  to 
do  it,  if  it  were  to  be  done  by  men.  "  God,"  I 
said,  "  certainly  seems  to  have  left  it  to  be  done 
by  the  instrumentality  of  men.  If  men,  therefore, 
are  negligent,  or  lukewarm  about  it,  he  will 
charge  it  to  their  account.  However,  it  is  mani- 
fest, that  Christianity  has  a  tendency  to  increase, 
which  is  not  the  case  with  any  other  religion.  In 
your  various  travels,  have  you  ever  visited  any 
country,  however  remote  or  uncivilized,  in  which 
there  were  not  Missionaries  established  to  intro- 
duce the  gospel  ?"  He  confessed  that  he  had  not, 
so  far  as  his  inquiries  extended.  "  The  gospel, 
therefore,"  I  thus  went  on,  "  is  not  stationary,  and 
men  are  trying  to  spread  it;  whether  rapidly 
or  slowly,  it  matters  not  for  the  argument.  I  be- 
lieve from  the  prophecies,  that  hereafter  it  will  be 
offered  and  made  known  to  the  whole  world  ;  and 
if  some  thousands  of  years  were  to  elapse  before 
that  event  took  place,  such  a  period,  however 
large  in  our  estimation,  might  be  nothing  in  com- 
parison with  the  duration  of  time.  A  thousand 
years  in  the  sight  of  God  are  but  as  one  day.  In 
the  meanwhile,  all  the  nations  to  which  the  gos- 
pel is  not  preached,  are  in  no  worse  situation,  than 


THE    SPIRIT    OF    INFIDELITY.  209 

all  the  world  before  the  first  preaching  of  it.    Has 
your  objection  then  any  weight  in  it  whatever  ?" 

By  this  time,  I  had  discovered,  that  I  was 
never  to  expect  from  the  sick  man  an  ingenuous 
confession  that  he  was  in  the  wrong.  His  man- 
ner was,  when  he  had  nothing  more  at  hand  upon 
any  point  under  discussion,  immediately  to  pass 
on  to  another  ;  and  I  had  nothing  to  do  but  to  fol- 
low him.  Yet  I  hoped  that  a  considerable  effect 
must  ultimately  and  almost  imperceptibly  be  pro- 
duced upon  his  mind,  when  he  observed,  which 
he  could  not  fail  to  do,  that  all  his  arguments  were 
capable  of  a  ready  answer ;  that,  consequently, 
there  was  not  that  weight  in  them,  which  he  ori- 
ginally supposed;  and  that  in  point  of  fact  they 
were  all,  when  examined,  found  to  be  untenable, 
and  he  himself  had  nothing  to  say  in  their  defence. 

He  hastily  reiterated  his  belief,  that  the  New 
Testament  was  written  three  hundred  years  after 
the  time  when  the  events  related  are  pretended  to 
have  taken  place ;  and  consequently  that  there 
was  no  sufficient  ground  for  trust  in  such  a  book. 

I  asked  him  why  he  conceived  the  New  Tes- 
tament to  have  been  written  so  recently. 

"  Oh  !  Sir,"  he  replied  at  once,  and  positively, 
"  it  is  a  well-known  fact. — It  has  been  affirmed 
again  and  again,  and  I  have  not  heard  it  once 
contradicted." 

18* 


210  THE    SPIRIT    OF    INFIDELITY. 

"  That  may  easily  be,"  I  said,  "  if  you  read 
only  the  books  on  one  side  of  the  question.  And 
now  I  see,  by  your  case,  that  the  Infidel  writers 
are  not  so  unskillful,  as  I  took  them  to  be.  I 
could  not  imagine  why  they  should  venture,  so 
often  as  they  do,  to  assert  the  most  decided  and 
barefaced  falsehoods ;  but  I  now  see,  that  they  are 
right  in  presuming,  that  many  of  their  readers 
will  give  them  implicit  credit,  and  not  trouble 
themselves  to  inquire  whether  their  assertions  are 
true  or  false.  I  am  sorry  to  perceive,  Sir,  that 
you  have  acted  in  this  manner.  But  tell  me, 
have  you  not  as  good  reason  to  believe  me,  as  to 
believe  Paine  or  Carlile,  or  any  other  men  of 
their  character.  They  have  an  interest,  or  think 
they  have,  in  deceiving  mankind.  Have  I  any 
interest  in  deceiving  you,  whom  I  look  upon  as  a 
dying  man?" 

"  I  do  not  see  that  you  have,"  he  answered. 

'•  Well,  then,  I  assert  the  contrary,"  I  said ; 
"  I  assert  that  the  gospel  was  written  very  soon 
after  the  events  recorded  in  it.  Will  you  believe 
me  or  them  ?" 

"As  you  tell  me,"  he  replied,  "that  I  have 
been  wrong  hitherto  in  believing,  without  exami- 
nation, persons  whom,  however,  I  thought  credi- 
ble, I  should  like  to  hear  what  reasons  you  have 
for  your  assertion." 


THE    SPIRIT    OF    INFIDELITY.  211 

"  By  all  means,"  I  rejoined,  "  you  shall  have 
my  reasons  ;  but  still  you  must  give  me  credit 
for  the  truth  of  much  of  what  I  shall  advance ; 
unless  God  should  spare  your  life,  and  enable  you 
to  search  for  yourself,  and  thus  to  verify  my  facts. 
Indeed,  to  do  it  thoroughly,  you  should  be  ac- 
quainted with  the  Greek  language,  in  which  the 
New  Testament  was  originally  written ;  and  you 
should  devote  no  little  labor  to  the  perusal  and 
study  of  large  and  voluminous  works  in  that  and 
other  languages.  But  if  you  are  content  to  put  so 
much  trust  in  me,  as  one  man  does  in  another,  in 
the  common  transactions  of  the  world,  where 
there  can  be  no  probable  cause  for  deceit,  I  could 
mention  enough  to  set  your  mind  at  ease  upon 
this  question  in  a  few  minutes." 

"Well,  well.  Sir,"  he  said;  "be  as  short  as 
you  please ;  and  I  will  give  you  credit  for  honesty." 

"What  more  then  could  you  expect,"  I  inquir- 
ed, "  to  prove  that  any  book  was  written  at  any 
particular  time,  than  that  other  authors,  writing 
upon  subjects  connected  with  it,  at  subsequent  pe- 
riods, beginning  from  that  very  time,  had  mention- 
ed the  book,  or  extracted  passages  from  it?" 

"  To  be  sure,"  he  confessed,  "if  that  were  the 
case  with  respect  to  the  New  Testament,  it  would 
go  a  great  way  towards  ascertaining  the  age  of  it." 

"  That  is  precisely  the  case,"  I  said.    "  There 


212  THE    SPIRIT    OF    INFIDELITY. 

exists  a  series  of  writers,  from  the  age  immediate- 
ly following  that  of  the  appearance  of  Jesus  Christ, 
and  the  preaching  of  his  Apostles,  down  to  the 
time  when  you  assert  that  the  New  Testament 
first  appeared ;  which  writers  clearly  refer  to  the 
New  Testament,  as  a  book  then  in  being,  or  to 
some  one  or  other  of  the  gospels  or  epistles, 
which  constitute  that  book  ;  and  they  quote  more 
m  less  from  it,  as  it  suited  their  purpose ;  so  that 
no  doubt  can  reasonably  remain  about  its  identity. 
A  learned  man  has  taken  the  pains  to  go  through 
all  those  writers ;  to  point  out  the  particular  age 
of  each ;  and  actually  to  produce  the  very  quo- 
tations themselves  which  they  made  from  the 
Scriptures.  I  could  tell  you  his  name,  and  their 
names,  if  it  were  of  any  use  to  do  it.  If  the&e 
things  be  so  then,  can  any  person  require  more 
evidence?" 

Without  yielding,  my  antagonist  immediately 
put  the  question  rather  triumphantly,  "  But  have 
any  Heathen  writers  spoken  of  this  book?  I 
should  wish  to  know  that  The  testimony  of 
enemies  would  be  more  convincing  than  the  testi- 
mony of  friends." 

"  Yes,"  I  replied  eagerly.  "  But  would  ene- 
fnies  continue  to  be  enemies,  if  they  were  well  ac- 
quainted with  the  origin  and  history  of  the  gos- 
pel ?  Would  they  not  immediately  become  friends, 


THE    SPIRIT    OF    INFIDELITY.  213 

and  then  give  their  testimony  as  friends  ?  This 
was  in  fact  the  case  with  many.  They  were  edu- 
cated in  Paganism,  and  prejudiced  against  Chris- 
tianity; but  having  been  induced  by  its  extraordi- 
nary effects  to  inquire  into  its  evidences,  and  to 
study  the  sacred  writings,  they  were  convinced ; 
they  were  converted ;  they  wrote  in  its  defence ; 
they  sacrificed  their  lives  in  its  cause.  There 
were,  however,  some  writers,  not  Christians,  who 
do  not  indeed  mention  the  New  Testament,  which 
was  either  impossible,  on  account  of  their  age, 
or  not  to  be  expected  on  account  of  their  opinions, 
but  who  record  important  circumstances  relating 
to  Christianity  which  are  striking  evidences  of  its 
truth.  And  it  might  be  also,  sometimes,  that  the 
silence  of  a  particular  author  would  be  a  better 
proof  than  almost  any  thing  he  could  have  said ; 
but  it  would  take  up  too  much  time  to  set  this 
matter  in  a  full,  clear  light.  The  writers,  how- 
ever, to  whom  1  allude,  are  eminent;  Suetonius, 
Tacitus,  Juvenal,  Pliny,  and  Josephus.  In  short, 
it  is  not  to  be  doubted  but  that  the  New  Tes- 
tament was  written  as  soon  as  might  be  expected 
after  the  events  which  it  records,  some  parts  ear- 
lier, some  parts  later,  as  the  several  writers 
thought  it  expedient ;  and  it  is  manifest,  by  a  thou- 
sand circumstances,  that  these  writers,  who  were 
perfectly  acquainted   with  the  main  facts  of  the 


214  THE    SPIRIT    OF    INFIDELITY. 

case,  could  neither  have  been  deceived  themselves, 
nor  have  had  any  wish  to  deceive  others.  But  if 
their  accounts  be  true,  Christianity  is  true.  The 
question  is  settled  at  once." 

I  paused ;  he  answered  after  a  little  thought, 
"Yes,  yes,  I  grant  it,  if  the  accounts  be  true, 
whenever  written ;  but  who  can  bring  himself  to 
believe  such  accounts?  Miracles,  for  instance; 
and  such  miracles !  Can  any  mortal,  not  entirely 
bereft  of  reason,  believe  the  miracle  of  the  devils 
and  the  swine?" 

"  We  will  see,"  I  said.  "  But  you  object  to 
all  miracles  ?" 

"  1  do,"  was  his  reply. 

"  Why?"  I  inquired.  "  Does  God,  the  Al- 
mighty, want  power  to  perform  a  miracle  ?" 

"  No ;  I  will  not  assert  that ;"  he  answered. 
*'  But,  as  I  observe  all  things  proceeding,  now-a- 
days,  in  their  regular  course,  according  to  natural 
causes,  I  feel  convinced  that  it  has  been  always 
so ;  and  that  God  never  altered  that  course,  and 
will  never  alter  it,  for  the  sake  of  performing  a 
miracle." 

*'  But  suppose,"  I  said,  "  that  God  should  wish 
to  send  a  message  to  mankind ;  how  would  the 
Messenger  be  known  to  come  from  him,  and  with 
his  authority?  When  Kings  or  States  send  Am- 
bassadors to  each  other,  the  Ambassadors  verify 


TKW  SPIRIT    OF    INFIDELITY.  215 

their  commission  by  undeniable  instruments  or 
documents,  sealed  with  the  arms  of  those  Kings  or 
States  ;  and  these  they  call  their  credentials.  Now 
what  credentials  must  God  give  to  his  Ambassa- 
dors to  obtain  reception  for  them,  and  to  awaken 
due  attention  to  his  message?  What  so  simple, 
what  so  convincing,  as  a  portion  of  his  own  pow- 
er, exceeding  the  power  of  man?  The  creden- 
tials indeed  must  be  something  miraculous.  No- 
thing conformable  to  the  established  laws  of  na- 
ture could  possibly  attest  the  extraordinary  pre- 
sence of  God.  If  the  messenger  came  surrounded 
with  the  utmost  worldly  pomp  and  grandeur;  if 
he  spake  as  never  man  spake,  with  the  most  per- 
suasive and  commanding  eloquence ;  if  he  lived 
such  a  life  as  to  exemplify  all  the  noblest  and  most 
difficult  moral  virtues ;  it  would  not  prove  incon- 
testably  that  God  was  with  him.  No !  Divine 
power  is  the  only  direct  and  irrefragable  evidence 
of  a  divine  message ;  so  that  in  this  case  you  see 
miracles  are  agreeable  to  reason,  and  by  no  means 
contrary  to  it." 

He  was  silent ;  and  I  was  fearful,  lest,  to  evade 
my  argument,  he  should  have  denied  the  possibil- 
ity or  probability  of  any  revelation  whatever; 
which  would  have  led  to  an  interminable  discus- 
sion ;  but  he  pursued  a  different  course,  and  after 
a  while,  collecting  himself  to  speak,  he  said,  "  Dr. 


216  THE    SPIRIT    OF    INFIDELITY. 

Warton,  1  have  been  in  many  parts  of  the  world ; 
and,  it  is  true,  wherever  I  was,  I  saw  that  some 
religion  or  other  had  got  hold  of  the  affections  of 
the  people.  But,  in  general,  these  religions  were 
so  absurd  and  foolish,  that  their  falsehood  appear- 
ed at  once.  Yet  there  were  none  of  them  which 
did  not  pretend  to  have  their  miracles.  But  these 
miracles  were  certainly  all  impostures ;  and  there- 
fore I  fell  into  the  conclusion  that  no  miracles  were 
true ;  which  is  the  safest  conclusion  to  abide  by, 
after  all." 

"  Your  conclusion  was  a  very  hasty  one,"  I  re- 
plied, "  and  it  seems  to  me  that  it  was  contrary  to 
all  just  reasoning,  and  far  from  being  safe.  You 
should  rather  have  argued,  that,  as  religion  was 
natural  to  mankind — (for  you  saw  it  every  where;) 
and  as  mankind  were  equally  disposed  to  believe 
in  miracles — (for  you  met  with  no  religion  which 
did  not  boast  of  its  miracles;)  so  the  probability 
would  be,  that  some  religion  might  be  true,  and 
some  miracles  attesting  that  religion  true  also. 
From  whence  you  should  have  gone  on  to  try  the 
Christian  religion  and  its  miracles  more  especially, 
as  being  received  in  your  own  country,  and  in- 
volving questions  of  inconceivable  moment,  by  the 
proper  test  for  the  ascertainment  of  their  truth  or 
falsehood.  Miracles,  it  is  plain,  are  agreeable  to 
the  common  sense  of  mankind;  and  you  have  al- 


THE    SPIRIT    OF    INFIDELITY.  217 

lowed  already  that  they  are  not  impossible  ;  it  fol- 
lows therefore  that  you  ought  to  examine  what  tes- 
timony there  is  in  their  favor,  when  so  great  an 
interest  is  at  stake,  and  when  they  are  brought 
forward  to  prove  the  truth  of  a  religion  which  sets 
life  or  death  before  you." 

He  had  nothing  to  say  to  all  this ;  and  I  did 
not  think  it  wise  to  press  him  with  questions,  to 
his  own  confusion  ;  so  I  went  on  thus.  "  The 
miracles  indeed  of  Pagan  nations,  and  the  modern 
miracles  of  the  Papists,  are  for  the  most  part  con- 
futed by  their  own  inherent  absurdities,  or  by 
the  want  of  a  sufficient  cause  for  the  interference 
of  the  Almighty;  but  the  Christian  miracles, 
wrought  for  the  purpose  of  introducing  Christian- 
ity, and  proving  it  to  be  from  God,  had  the  wor- 
thiest cause,  and  were  generally  in  their  own  na- 
ture noble  instances  of  goodness  and  mercy  as 
well  as  of  power.  What  think  you  of  healing  the 
sick,  of  feeding  the  hungry,  of  making  the  lame 
to  walk,  the  deaf  to  hear,  the  dumb  to  speak,  the 
blind  to  see,  the  dead  to  rise  ?  And  all  this  by  a 
word,  or  a  touch  ?  Have  you  not  here  two  stamps 
of  divinity  impressed  upon  those  miracles,  power 
and  goodness?" 

He  could  not  deny  it,  but  he  interposed,  that 
this  was  not  the  character  of  them  all.  "  Perhaps 
not,"  I  said  ;  "  but  it  is  the  character  of  so  large  a 
19 


218  THE    SPIRIT    OF    INFIDELITY. 

portion  of  them,  as  naturally  to  dispose  us  in  favor 
of  the  rest.  And  what  are  the  rest  ?  the  blasting  of 
the  fig-tree,  the  finding  of  the  tribute-money  in  the 
fish's  mouth,  the  walking  upon  the  sea,  the  sub- 
duing of  the  storm,  when  the  sovereign  Author  of 
nature,  with  that  voice  which  all  nature  hears  and 
obeys,  said  to  the  winds  and  waves,  '  Peace !  be 
still !  and  immediately  there  was  a  great  calm  V 
Is  there  anything  absurd  in  these  miracles  to  dis- 
credit them  at  once  ?  Were  they  a  mere  ostenta- 
tion of  power  ?  Or  were  they  not  performed  most 
aptly  and  seasonably,  and  all  but  one  so  as  to 
strike  the  disciples  with  additional  awe  of  their 
Master,  and  thereby  to  increase  their  faith  in 
him?" 

"  Yes !  Sir,"  he  replied ;  *•  it  may  be  so  with 
respect  to  those  which  you  have  selected ;  but  you 
say  nothing  of  the  miracle  of  the  devils  and 
the  swine,  to  which  I  objected  from  the  first; 
and  which  you  cannot  explain,  and  therefore 
appear  to  me  to  evade. — Look  to  that.  Sir !" 
he  continued  somewhat  triumphantly.  "  That 
is  the  point  upon  which  I  wait  for  informa- 
tion." 

*'Well,  I  will  give  you  what  information  I 
can  upon  that  too,"  I  answered.  "  Only  I  would 
have  you  take  notice,  that  if  I  were  unable  to  ex- 
plain that  miracle  so  fully  and  clearly  as  I  have 


THE    SPIRIT    OF    INFIDELITY.  219 

explained  the  others,  it  would  not  injure  my  argu- 
ment. Is  it  reasonable,  that  a  single  difficulty, 
or  many  difficulties,  should  destroy  at  once  the 
effect  of  every  thing  else,  which  is  so  perfectly 
plain  and  simple?" 

He  would  not  say  that  it  was;  but  he  was 
sure,  that  where  there  were  difficulties,  there 
would  always  be  doubts ;  and  as  to  possession  by 
devils,  he  thought  the  whole  story  incredible. 

"  Do  you  believe,"  I  asked,  "  that  there  are 
such  beings  as  evil  spirits  ?" 

"  I  am  rather  inclined  to  think  that  there  are 
not,"  was  his  answer. 

"  Are  you  aware,"  I  asked  again,  "  that  all 
nations,  in  all  times,  as  far  as  we  can  know,  have 
believed  in  the  existence  of  supernatural  beings 
both  good  and  bad  ?" 

"  I  am  aware  of  it,"  he  replied,  "  and,  indeed, 
I  myself  observed  in  my  travels,  that  the  religion 
of  some  nations  was  chiefly  the  result  of  their 
fear  of  bad  spirits." 

"  The  belief  then  of  the  existence  of  beings  of 
superior  power  to  men,  and  inclined  to  be  mis- 
chievous to  men,  being  universal,  is  natural  to  the 
human  mind;  is  it  not?"  I  inquired. 

He  granted  that  it  was. 

"  Well,  then,"  I  continued,  "  that  is  a  presump- 
tion, al  least,  that  there  really  are  such  beings  j 


220  THE    SPIRIT    OF    INFIDELITY. 

and  I,  who  believe  the  fact  to  be  so,  believe 
also,  that  one  way,  in  which  the  idea  became  so 
prevalent,  as  to  appear  natural,  is  by  tradition  from 
the  first  ages  of  the  world ;  and  I  am  sure,  that  the 
account  given  of  those  beings  in  the  Scriptures, 
is  a  most  consistent  account,  and  the  only  rational 
one  to  be  found  any  where ;  namely,  that  they 
were  made  originally  by  the  great  Creator  of  the 
same  rank  with  the  angels  themselves,  and  gifted 
with  the  same  excellent  endowments,  and  put  into 
possession  of  the  same  bliss  and  glory;  that,  being 
free  to  stand  or  fall,  they  fell  by  voluntary  trans- 
gression, from  this,  their  first  estate ;  that,  since 
their  fall,  they  have  been  permitted  by  Provi- 
dence to  tempt  mankind  to  sin,  for  the  trial  and 
illustration  of  human  faith  and  virtue. 

"  But  to  come  to  the  miracle.  I  believe,  that, 
in  the  first  age  of  the  gospel,  these  devils  were 
permitted  to  torment  the  bodies,  as  well  as  to 
tempt  the  passions  and  appetites  of  men ;  one  pur- 
pose of  which  was,  to  show,  what  perhaps  could 
not  have  been  shown  otherwise,  that  Jesus  Christ, 
who  cast  them  out,  had  a  power  superior  to  their's ; 
and  thus  to  raise  the  faith  of  the  true  Christian,  to 
a  full  and  perfect  confidence,  that  the  kingdom  of 
darkness  would  finally  be  overthrown  by  the  same 
power,  and  the  kingdom  of  righteousness  esta- 
blished  on  its  ruins  for  ever.      However,  there 


THE    SPIRIT    OF    INFIDELITY.  221 

might  have  been  then,  as  there  are  now,  persons 
who  thought  that  the  sick  people,  afflicted  by  the 
devil,  as  we  say,  upon  Scripture  authority,  were 
not  really  so ;  but  that  they  labored  under  imagi- 
nary disorders  of  the  mind,  which  they  themselves, 
in  the  paroxysms  of  their  madness,  interpreted 
in  that  manner.  Now,  I  ask  you,  is  it  possible, 
do  you  think,  for  irrational  animals  to  be  trou- 
bled with  diseases  of  the  imagination?" 

He  allowed,  that  it  was  not  possible. 

"  It  would  perhaps,  then,"  I  continued,  "  be 
no  bad  method  of  showing  that  these  afflictions, 
which  we  call  possessions  by  devils,  were  not 
disorders  of  the  imagination,  if  it  were  seen 
that  irrational  animals  were  also  affected  by 
them." 

He  was  aware  of  the  drift  of  my  reasoning, 
and  therefore,  as  he  could  not  controvert  it,  after  his 
former  concession,  he  remained  silent,  and  left  me 
to  draw  the  conclusion,  that,  besides  other  reasons 
for  sending  the  devils  into  the  swine,  this  might 
have  been  one,  that  it  proved  the  exercise  of  a 
real  power  by  those  beings  which  was  subject  to 
the  power  of  Christ.  This  visible  conquest  over 
Satan,  was,  in  fact,  the  beginning  to  bruise  the 
serpent's  head,  and  an  earnest  of  his  future  com- 
plete destruction,  according  to  the  earliest  pro- 
phecy delivered  in  Paradise,  for  the  consolation 
19* 


222  THE    SPIUIT    OF    INFIDELITY. 

of  our  first  parents,  and  the  confirming  of  the 
/aith  of  their  whole  posterity. 

Here  I  thought  it  advisable  to  close  the  con- 
versation for  the  present.  It  was  wonderful  in- 
deed, that  the  sick  man  could  have  supported  his 
part  in  it  so  long.  In  body,  however,  he  was  cer- 
tainly not  worse  than  when  we  began ;  in  mind 
there  was  a  sensible  alteration  for  the  better;  and  I 
tacitly  besought  God,  that  he  would  give  me  the 
time,  and  also  enable  me  to  enlighten  and  con- 
vince him  still  further,  that  he  might  die  in  the  true 
and  steadfast  faith  of  Christ,  I  refrained  from  ask- 
ing him  how  far  I  had  already  succeeded.  He  was 
not  yet  ripe  for  confessions.  He  would,  perhaps, 
have  denied  that  any  change  had  taken  place  in 
his  opinions;  but  upon  the  whole  it  was  suffi- 
ciently apparent,  and  I  contented  myself  with 
remarking  it  in  his  silence.  I  now  took  my 
leave,  with  a  promise  that  I  would  be  with  him  on 
the  following  day,  which  he  seemed  to  receive 
with  pleasure,  and  which  he  acknowledged 
with  thanks. 

I  visited  him,  according  to  my  engagement, 
and  was  surprised  to  find  a  man,  whom  the  day 
before  I  supposed  to  be  dying,  now  seated  in  his 
chair,  as  at  the  first,  and  breathing  with  much 
more  freedom.  In  fact,  his  disease  had  taken  a 
favorable  turn,  and  in  consequence,  he  had  ob- 


THE    SPIRIT    OF    INFIDELITY.  223 

tained  some  comfortable  rest  in  the  night,  and 
was  now  enjoying  this  temporary  ease.  But 
there  was  no  reason  to  think  that  it  could  be  more 
than  temporary ;  and  therefore,  in  congratulating 
him  upon  the  pause  of  his  disorder,  I  still  kept  in 
view  the  certainty  that  it  must  terminate  fatally. 

"  God,"  I  said,  "  has  been  gracious  to  you, 
and  has  spared  you  another  day  for  the  momen- 
tous work  in  which  you  are  employed.  Whilst 
the  day  lasts,  let  us  be  diligent  in  the  use  of  it ; 
for  the  night  cometh  when  no  man  can  work. 
Yesterday,  when  I  entered  your  chamber,  your 
life  seemed  to  hang  upon  a  single  thread,  and  I 
expected  to  see  it  snap  asunder.  The  same  dan- 
ger may  return,  you  know  not  how  soon ;  God 
grant  that  you  may  be  well  prepared  to  meet  it ! 
Shall  I  kneel  down,  therefore,  and  thank  God  for 
his  present  mercy,  and  beg  his  future  help,  in  the 
name  of  his  Son,  Jesus  Christ,  whom  he  has  ap- 
pointed to  be  the  only  Mediator  between  men  and 
himself?" 

This  proposition  I  made  to  try  him,  and  that  I 
might  not  contend  in  the  dark  with  respect  to  his 
actual  sentiments.  For  he  showed  no  disposition 
to  give  me  any  positive  information  about  himself 
expressly  by  words;  I  could  only  judge  by  deeds 
and  casual  circumstances;  nor  had  I  seen  his 
wife  this  morning,  so  as  to  get  any  information 


224  THE    SPIRIT    OF    INFIDELITY. 

from  her  on  this  interesting  point.  I  was  not  a 
little  grieved,  therefore,  when,  instead  of  accept- 
ing my  offer  to  pray  for  him,  he  replied  careless- 
ly, "  that  he  could  never  digest  the  doctrine  of  a 
Mediator  between  God  and  men ;  and  that  Me- 
diator the  Son  of  God  himself;  and  him  too  cru- 
cified, dead,  and  buried.  There  is  something," 
he  asserted,  "  so  strange,  so  incredible,  so  contra- 
dictory to  reason,  in  the  whole  scheme  and  idea 
of  it,  that  even  undoubted  miracles  could  never 
prove  it," 

Alas  !  alas !  thought  I ;  how  must  we  waste, 
perhaps  irrecoverably,  and  in  fruitless  disputation, 
the  precious  hours  that  should  have  been  spent  in 
earnest  prayer  for  grace  and  pardon.  However, 
I  could  only  follow  where  he  led  me;  and  at  least 
it  was  satisfactory  to  observe,  that  he  spoke  no 
longer  with  the  same  sarcastic  tone  of  voice,  as 
on  the  day  before.  The  very  objection  which  he 
brought  forward  now,  was  then  put  in  a  form 
which  I  should  be  shocked  to  record ;  now  it  was 
expressed  with  moderation.  I  did  not,  therefore, 
permit  myself  to  despair ;  but,  on  the  contrary, 
pleased  and  encouraged  myself  with  the  hope  that 
another  day  might,  by  God's  blessing,  produce  a 
still  more  remarkable  change. 

I  said,  therefore,  "  Suppose  you  had  a  favor 
to  ask  of  the  king's  chief  minister,  upon  whom 


THE    SPIRIT    OF    IXFIDLLITY.  225 

however,  you  had  no  claim  whatever ;  and  sup- 
pose also,  that  you  had  happened  to  be  acquainted 
with  a  person  of  inferior  rank,  but  high  in  influ- 
ence with  that  minister ;  would  you  apply  directly 
to  the  great  man,  yourself,  or  through  the  person 
who  was  the  common  friend  of  both?" 

"  I  should  apply,"  he  answered,  "  through  the 
common  friend." 

"  He  would  be  your  mediator  then,"  said  I, 
"  would  he  not  ?" 

"  He  certainly  would,"  was  his  reply. 

"  And  is  not  this,"  I  continued,  "  the  com- 
mon practice  of  mankind,  where  they  who  have 
favors  to  grant,  are  far  above  them,  and  out  of 
their  reach,  as  it  were,  to  endeavor  to  prevail 
upon  some  other  person  or  persons  to  mediate  for 
them  ;  that  is,  to  go  between  the  parties  which  are 
at  a  distance,  and  to  approximate  them  to  each 
other,  and  thus  to  accomplish  the  wished-for 
object  ?" 

He  allowed  that  it  was. 

"  And  more  especially,"  I  added,  "  if  you  had 
offended  the  superior  man  by  your  conduct,  and 
had  reason  to  think  that  he  would  punish  you,  in- 
stead of  favoring  you ;  would  you  venture  to  ap- 
proach him  under  such  circumstances,  and  boldly 
ask  him  to  do  you  some  great  kindness  ?" 

"  I  would  not,"  he  said. 


226  THE    SPIRIT    OF    INFIDELITY. 

"But  if  a  friend  of  your's,"  thus  I  went  on, 
"should  voluntarily  undertake  to  go  to  the  great 
man  for  you,  and  should  bid  you  to  have  good 
hope  of  success,  in  spite  of  the  unpromising  na- 
ture of  your  case,  because  that  he  himself  would 
be  your  advocate  and  mediator,  and  that  the  great 
man  never  refused  him  any  thing;  should  you 
not  be  overpowered  with  joy  ?  Should  you  not 
accept  so  unexpected  and  advantageous  an  offer, 
with  the  utmost  gratitude  ?" 

"Undoubtedly,  I  ought  to  do  so." 

"Well,  then,"  I  summed  up  my  argument, 
"  this  is  pretty  much  the  case  between  God  _and 
men.  The  parties  are  at  an  immense  distance. 
One  lies  under  the  displeasure  of  the  other,  and 
yet  looks  up  to  that  other  for  inestimable  benefits. 
Glad,  therefore,  ought  we  to  be,  supremely  glad, 
that  there  is  another  person  at  hand,  willing  to 
undertake,  and  able  to  effect  a  reconciliation  be- 
tween them.  This,  then,  is  the  Christian  scheme  ; 
according,  you  see,  with  the  common  reason  of 
mankind." 

My  adversary  was  silent,  as  heretofore,  when 
the  argument  appeared  to  be  against  his  positions ; 
but  his  hostility  was  manifestly  relaxed,  and  he  no 
longer  seemed  to  think  that  he  had  lost  any  thing, 
when  his  assertions  were  overturned.  I  therefore 
proceeded. 


THE    SPIRIT    OF    INFIDELITY.  227 

"  Now,  if  this  intermediate  person  were  of 
such  a  description,  as  to  be  a  natural  connecting 
link  between  the  parties,  would  he  not  be  admira- 
bly adapted  to  the  office?  If,  for  instance,  he 
were  perfectly  acquainted  with  all  the  circum- 
stances of  both,  by  his  own  experience  too,  would 
not  that  be  a  vast  advantage?" 

He  granted  that  it  would. 

"  Well,  then,"  I  said,  "  could  any  one  know 
the  two  parties  better  than  he,  who  has  the  nature 
of  both?" 

"  Probably  not," 

"  Here  again,  then,"  I  rejoined,  "  You  have 
the  Christian  scheme  of  a  Mediator,  who  is  both 
God  and  man,  consistent,  as  you  perceive,  with 
the  deductions  of  your  best  reason. 

"  The  whole  dispensation,  expressed  summa- 
rily, is  this : — God  is  of  purer  eyes  than  to  behold 
iniquity :  he  cannot  tolerate  in  his  presence  the 
slightest  stain  of  sin ;  he  dwells  in  the  dazzling 
splendor  of  inaccessible  light,  and  even  the 
blessed  angels  themselves,  with  their  wings, 
veil  their  faces  before  him.  Man,  debased  by  the 
fall,  and  by  his  own  transgressions,  cannot  ap- 
proach him  to  ask  for  pardon  and  grace;  the  de- 
sire of  all  nations,  in  all  ages,  has  been  to  find  a 
Mediator.  At  length,  in  the  fulness  of  the  times, 
the  Mediator  comes,  who  is  the  brightness  of  the 


228  THE    SPIRIT    OF    INFIDELITY. 

Divine  glory,  and  the  express  image  of  the  Divine 
person.  But  through  the  cloud  of  mortal  frailty- 
he  shines  with  a  milder  radiance  than  his  Hea- 
venly Father.  Incarnate  by  the  Holy  Ghost,  and 
under  his  constant  influence,  he  is  utterly  devoid 
of  all  sin ;  yet  his  virtues,  being  human  virtues, 
however  high  and  exalted,  they  create  in  us  no 
alarm  or  apprehension.  We  come  boldly  to  him 
for  help  in  time  of  need.  He  pleads  for  us  the 
merits  of  that  death,  which,  being  a  man,  he  was 
enabled  to  undergo :  a  death,  which  was  an  all- 
sufficient  atonement  for  the  sins  of  the  whole 
world,  because  it  was  the  death  of  one,  who,  being 
in  the  form  of  God,  emptied  himself  of  his  native 
glories,  and  exhibited  himself  in  the  fashion  of  a 
man,  and  stooped  to  the  ignominy  of  the  Cross, 
Well,  then,  we  may  think  him  mighty  to  save,  and 
accept  with  confidence,  his  gracious  offers  of  re- 
conciling us  to  our  offended  God  !  Will  you  be 
angry  with  him  for  his  astonishing  love  towards 
you  ?  Will  you  refuse  to  acknowledge  his  divine 
nature,  because  he  took  the  human  ?  Will  you 
not  pray  in  his  name,  because  he  submitted  to 
shame,  and  death  for  you  ?" 

My  zeal  would  have  carried  me  on  still  fur- 
ther ;  but  observing  some  favorable  symptoms  of 
remorse  in  my  patient's  countenance  and  manner, 
and  also  an  inclination  to  speak,  I  stopped,  and 


THE    SPIRIT    OF    INFIDELITY.  229 

he  immediately  said, — "  You  have  drawn,  Sir,  it 
must  be  granted,  a  very  pleasing  picture  of  the 
chief  features  of  the  Christian  religion.  I  see 
many  things  in  a  different  light  from  that  in 
which  I  have  been  too  long  accustomed  to  view 
them.  I  am  obliged  to  you  for  every  kindness 
which  you  have  shown  to  me  during  my  sickness; 
but  more  especially,  for  the  pains  which  you  have 
taken  to  correct  my  erroneous  notions  of  Chris- 
tianity." 

I  soon  after  left  him,  saying,  as  I  rose  to  go 
away,  "  may  God  send  his  Holy  Spirit  to  enlight- 
en your  mind,  and  to  purify  your  heart !" 

As  I  pursued  my  walk,  in  the  discharge  of 
other  clerical  duties,  I  reflected,  with  satisfaction, 
upon  the  scene  which  had  just  passed.  We  had 
not,  indeed,  yet  arrived  at  any  decided  evidence 
of  a  real  change,  but  a  foundation  appeared  to  be 
laid,  which  a  few  days  ago  seemed  utterly  hopeless. 

The  morrow  came,  and  I  hastened  to  visit  him 
again  ;  but  unavoidable  accidents  kept  me  on  the 
road  a  few  minutes  beyond  the  hour.  On  enter- 
ing the  house,  I  saw  at  once  the  marks  of  some 
great  calamity.  His  wife  hurried  down  stairs  to 
me ;  consternation  sat  upon  her  countenance.  I 
inquired  eagerly  what  was  the  matter ;  and  was 
answered,  that  her  husband  was  dying. 
20 


230  THE    SPIRIT    OF    INFIDELITY. 

"  Oh  !  Sir,"  she  said,  "  he  has  been  very  impa- 
tient for  your  arrival.  He  has  asked  again  and 
again  if  it  were  twelve  o'clock.  Again  and  again 
he  has  expressed  a  great  alarm  lest  you  should 
not  be  here  before  he  died." 

I  rushed  up  stairs,  much  disturbed,  and  struck 
with  awe  at  the  doings  of  the  Almighty.  Here 
was  a  striking  instance  of  the  wretched  weakness 
of  man,  and  of  His  irresistible  power.  The  sick 
man  yesterday,  so  much  better  and  stronger,  with 
the  prospect  of  some  weeks  at  least,  before  him  j 
and  so  far  renewed  in  the  spirit  of  his  mind,  as  to 
have  appointed  this  day  and  this  hour  for  the  com- 
mencement of  religious  exercises,  was  stretched 
upon  the  bed  of  death,  and  now  almost  a  lifeless 
corpse.  His  eyes  were  closed;  his  face  was 
black  and  ghastly ;  his  throat  rattled  as  the  breath 
forced  a  passage  through  it.  I  seized  his  hand, 
and  pressed  it.  He  opened  his  eyes  convulsive- 
ly, and  shut  them  instantly.  He  attempted  to 
speak,  but  no  intelligible  sounds  escaped  from  his 
lips.  Nevertheless,  bis  mind  was  manifestly  not 
yet  gone ;  and  I  hoped  that  he  still  possessed  the 
sense  of  hearing.  I  knelt  down,  therefore,  and 
began  in  a  loud  and  solemn  tone  that  most  beau- 
tiful, affecting,  and  divine  prayer,  which  is  pre- 
scribed for  the  sick  at  the  point  of  their  departure. 
His  lips  moved,  as  if  he  were  trying  to  accompa- 


THE    SPIRIT    OF    INFIDELITY.  231 

ny  me.  This  sign  of  God's  gracious  goodness 
towards  him,  in  the  midst  of  his  dreadful  agony, 
for  a  moment  overpowered  me,  and  of  necessity, 
I  stopped.  He  began  to  speak,  and  I  put  my 
head  close  to  catch  his  words. 

He  said,  "  it  is  very  comfortable  to  me ;"  and 
that  was  all  which  I  could  distinctly  understand. 
It  was  evident  that  he  did  not  finish  the  sentence 
which  he  intended ;  for  he  began  over  and  over 
again  in  the  same  words.  When  he  had  entirely 
ceased,  I  resumed  the  prayer;  his  lips  moved 
again  for  a  short  time,  and  then  became  motion- 
less altogether.  I  grasped  his  hand,  and  asked 
him,  if  he  died  in  the  faith  of  Jesus  Christ.  He 
gave  me  no  sign.  Unwilling  to  distress  his  last 
moments,  I  withdrew ;  ejaculating  to  Heaven  a 
petition  for  the  salvation  of  his  soul,  and  at  length 
relieved  by  tears. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE   END   OP   INPIDEI-ITY. 

As  I  was  sitting  at  home  one  rainy  day,  and 
earnestly  engaged  in  the  preparation  of  a  sermon 
for  the  following  Sunday,  expecting  that  the  wea- 
ther would  have  secured  me  from  all  chance  of 
being  disturbed  by  visitors,  the  name  of  Mr.  Sam- 
brook  was  announced.  He  was  a  considerable 
farmer,  with  whom  I  had  long  wished  to  have  an 
opportunity  of  conversing,  and  which  I  had  totally 
despaired  of  obtaining,  unless  it  might  please 
Providence  to  inflict  some  lingering  calamity  up- 
on him.  I  was  well  aware  that  the  object  of  his 
present  visit  was  entirely  secular;  but  I  hoped  to 
extract  something  spiritual  out  of  it,  and  therefore, 
put  by  my  papers  with  great  satisfaction,  and  de- 
sired that  he  might  be  brought  into  my  study. 

A  short,  fat,  rosy  man,  beyond  the  middle 
age,  was  introduced.  His  dress  and  manner  were 
rough,  for  a  person  having  so  much  intercourse 
with  the  neighboring  town ;  but  there  was  a  live- 
liness and  cheerfulness  in  his  whole  air  and  ges- 
tures, which  induced  me  at  once,  to  think  that  I 
might  say  what  I  chose  to  him,  consistently  with 


THE    END    OF    INFIDELITY.  233 

my  situation,  without  the  danger  of  giving  him 
offence.  And  certainly  it  seemed  necessary  that 
much  should  be  said ;  at  church  I  never  had  seen 
him ;  he  was  accused  of  acts  of  uncommon  profli- 
gacy, and  he  was  bringing  up  his  family  in  an 
absolute  neglect  of  all  religion. 

He  had  long  been  endeavoring  to  evade  the 
payment  of  his  parish  dues,  and  now  called  upon 
me,  to  see  if  some  compromise  could  not  be  made, 
by  which  he  could  still  avoid  the  claims  of  the 
law.  After  conversing  with  him  for  some  time 
upon  this  subject,  I  relinquished  a  large  part  of 
the  debt  he  owed  me,  and  the  rest  he  was  to  pay 
by  instalments.  This  business  being  settled,  I 
said,  "  I  hope,  Mr.  Sambrook,  that  you  and  I  shall 
be  good  friends  in  future ;  that  you  will  fulfill 
your  present  bargain  punctually  and  honorably ; 
and  that  by  coming  to  church,  you  will  give  me 
opportunities  of  promoting  your  highest  good, — 
the  salvation  of  your  soul." 

Here  I  concluded,  and  he  said  nothing  more 
in  reply,  than  that  he  was  desirous  of  being  on 
friendly  terms  with  me,  and  that  he  would  do  his 
utmost  to  discharge  his  debt ;  as  to  the  rest,  he 
shook  his  head,  and  gave  me  no  encouragement. 
Thus  we  separated  for  this  time.  The  payments 
that  were  to  be  made  would,  I  supposed,  bring  us 
together  again  often;  and  I  trusted  that  some- 
20* 


234  THE    END    OF    INFIDELITY. 

thing  more  for  his  benefit  might  hereafter  be 
done. 

The  appointed  day  for  the  first  payment  having 
arrived,  and  passed  without  notice,  I  could  not 
help  suspecting  that  Mr.  Sambrook  had  still  some 
intentions  of  deceiving  me,  and  of  escaping  from 
his  own  contract.*  To  pay  away  money  on  any 
account,  even  where  it  was  due,  was  contrary  to 
his  nature  and  habits.  His  taxes  and  rates  were 
seldom  obtained  except  after  the  first  process  of 
the  law,  a  summons  by  a  magistrate,  or  a  lawyer's 
letter ;  so  that  it  would  have  been  ridiculous  for 
me  to  expect  better  treatment.  An  opening,  how- 
ever, having  now  been  made  for  an  attempt  to 
bring  him  gradually  to  Christian  principles,  I  de- 
termined to  proceed  by  the  gentlest  methods,  and, 
if  possible,  to  give  no  cause  for  fresh  irritation.  I 
walked  therefore  in  the  direction  of  his  house, 
and  found  him  in  one  of  his  fields,  near  home, 
looking  at  a  most  beautiful  apple-tree,  which  was 
in  full  bloom,  and  covered  with  blossoms  of  vari- 
ous shades  of  color. 

After  the  usual  salutations,  fortunately,  he  be- 
gan himself  with  apologising  for  his  want  of 
punctuality  to  his  engagements,  and  having  stated 

*  The  reader  will  perceive  from  this  dialogue,  that  it  is 
customary  in  England  for  the  clergyman  himself  to  collect 
his  dues  from  his  parishioners. 


THE    END    OF    INFIDELITY.  235 

some  reason  or  other  for  it,  not  very  satisfactory, 
I  accepted  it  nevertheless  at  once ;  and  he  then  paid 
me  the  sum  that  was  first  due  ;  being,  as  he  affirm- 
ed, about  to  bring  it  to  me.  At  the  same  time  he 
expressed  a  hope,  vi^hich  was  wonderful  for  such 
a  person,  that  others  paid  me  better  than  he  did. 

"  They  do,  certainly,"  I  replied ;  "  but  now 
that  we  are  better  acquainted,  you  will  perhaps 
not  yield  to  any  of  them.  But  what  must  we  do 
for  a  receipt?" 

"  Oh !  never  mind ;"  he  said,  "  your  word  is 
as  good  as  a  stamp." 

"  I  hope  it  is."  I  answered;  "but  my  memory 
may  fail  me." 

"  I  will  trust  to  that  too,"  he  replied. 

This  amused  me  exceedingly;  but  I  found 
universally,  that  all  who  persisted  in  calling  me 
rogue  and  robber  behind  my  back,  never  hesita- 
ted for  a  moment  to  put  the  most  entire  confidence 
in  me,  when  we  had  any  money  transactions 
together. 

"  Very  w^ell,"  I  said  ;  "  I  only  wish  that  you 
would  trust  me  in  things  of  much  greater  impor- 
tance. Mr.  Sambrook,  you  are  getting  into  years  ; 
infirmities  will  come,  and  sickness,  and  death. 
But  it  would  be  wise  to  reflect  seriously  upon 
your  condition,  before  you  are  forced  to  do  so, 
and  when  to  do  it  will  be  more  painful,  and  less 


236  THE    END    OF    INFIDELITY. 

easy.  Indeed,  when  I  look  at  your  frame  and 
figure,  I  cannot  help  fearing,  that  you  may  be 
carried  out  of  this  world  by  one  of  those  sudden, 
instantaneous,  unexpected  attacks,  which  are  now 
so  common  amongst  us;  and  that  it  may  not 
please  Providence  to  give  you  any  warnings 
by  a  gradual  diminution  of  your  health  and 
vigor.  You  appear  to  me.  Sir,  as  far  as  I 
have  the  power  of  judging,  and  I  speak  it  with 
unfeigned  sorrow,  you  appear  to  be  living  with- 
out the  worship  and  even  the  knowledge  of  a  God  ; 
and  is  not  this,  besides  the  danger  of  it,  to  degrade 
yourself  to  a  level  with  the  animals  below  you, 
brute  and  irrational,  who  feed,  and  sleep,  and  per- 
form all  their  other  offices,  without  being  con- 
scious of  a  Creator  and  Preserver?" 

I  watched  him  closely  whilst  I  was  speak- 
ing, but  I  could  not  ascertain  the  current  of  his 
thoughts.  On  the  whole,  I  conjectured  that 
shame  alone  prevented  him  from  avowing  him- 
self at  once  an  Atheist.  When  I  paused,  he  said, 
"  That  he  considered  a  sudden  death  as  much 
preferable  to  a  lingering  one,  and  hoped  that  his 
own  might  be  sudden." 

"  What !"  I  asked,  "  whether  prepared  or  un- 
prepared ?" 

"  I  am  so  far  prepared,"  was  his  answer,  "  as 
to  be  certain  that  I  must  die ;  and  I  do  not   find 


THE    END    OF    INFIDELITY.  237 

things  go  on  so  smoothly  and  pleasantly  here,  as 
to  make  me  very  desirous  of  a  long  life?" 

"But  what  do  you  think  of  the  next  life?"  I 
asked  again :  "  Things  may  go  on  less  smoothly 
and  pleasantly  there,  unless  we  have  made  a 
due  preparation  here  by  virtue  and  piety.  You 
have  a  soul,  which  will  never  die ;  and  which  is 
now  in  a  state  of  trial ;  God,  who  is  a  God  of 
justice,  will  judge  it  hereafter,  when  the  trial  is 
finished ;  and  if  he  find  it  defiled  with  drunken- 
ness and  sensuality,  or  any  other  vice,  he  will  as- 
sign to  it  a  terrible  lot  in  eternity.  Do  you  be- 
lieve all  this  ?" 

"  No,  Sir,"  he  replied :  "  these  things  are  too 
deep  for  me.  I  was  brought  up  from  my  youth 
to  a  life  of  labor.  I  am  no  scholar ;  but  1  have 
talked  with  people  who  are ;  and  they  say  that 
they  believe  none  of  these  things.  And  it  seems 
reasonable  that  no  man  should  be  forced  to  believe 
what  he  cannot  understand.  How  do  I  know 
that  there  is  any  God  ?  I  cannot  understand  what 
sort  of  Being  he  can  be,  nor  where  he  can  live, 
nor  how  he  can  know  what  I  am  doing  or  think- 
ing now.  I  say  the  same  about  souls,  and  another 
world  after  this,  and  a  last  judgment,  and  everlast- 
ing punishment :  I  cannot  understand  it ;  and  I 
stick  to  this,  that  I  cannot  believe,  and  therefore 
cannot  act  upon  any  thing  which  I  no  not  under- 


238  THE    END    OF    INFIDELITY. 

Stand."  In  saying  all  this,  he  spoke  with  a  tone 
of  vehemence  and  positiveness,  which  plainly  im- 
plied that  he  thought  his  position  impregnable. 

"  What  tree  is  this,"  I  inquired,  "  which  looks 
so  uncommonly  beautiful?" 

"  Why,  an  apple-tree,  to  be  sure,"  he  answered. 

"  And  does  it  generally  bear  fruit  ?"  I  inquired 
again. 

"  Yes,"  said  he,  *'  abundance ;  and  of  the  very 
best  sorts  too ;  for  you  see  the  different  flowers,  and 
may  guess  therefore  that  it  bears  different  sorts." 

"  And  what  do  you  do  with  the  apples,  when 
they  are  ripe  ?  You  give  them  to  the  pigs,  I  sup- 
pose, or  throw  them  upon  the  dunghill." 

"  Are  you  mad.  Sir !"  he  interrupted  me  eager- 
ly, "  They  are  fit  for  the  king's  table !  They 
fetch  the  very  highest  price  in  the  market ;  and  I 
prize  them  exceedingly." 

"  How  delighted  I  am,"  said  I,  "  to  have  met 
you  near  this  remarkable  tree !  For  I  have  always 
been  extremely  desirous  of  understanding  some- 
thing about  the  production  of  flowers  and  fruits ; 
and  as  you  are  the  wise  man  who  never  believe 
or  act  upon  any  thing  which  you  do  not  perfectly 
comprehend,  I  hope  you  will  not  be  so  unkind  as 
to  refuse  to  impart  your  knowledge  to  me." 

He  was  not  exactly  aware  of  the  drift  of  my 
reasoning ;  but  he  suspected  by  my  manner  that 


THE    END    OF    INFIDELITY.  239 

I  wished  to  banter  him  a  little ;  so  he  answered 
cautiously,  that  he  would  gladly  tell  me  whatever 
he  knew. 

"  Oh,  do  not  deceive  me,"  I  said,  "or  cut  short 
my  expectations !  Of  course  you  know  every 
thing  about  it ;  or  you  would  not  have  done  as 
you  have,  first  planting  this  tree  itself;  then  graft- 
ing upon  it  the  various  sorts  ;  pruning  every  year 
the  superfluous  branches  ;  plucking  off  the  super- 
abundant fruit,  for  the  improvement  of  the  rest; 
and,  in  short,  pursuing  all  the  rules  of  good  hus- 
bandry, which  are  generally  crowned  with  suc- 
cess." 

He  doubted  where  this  would  end,  and  was 
silent;  so  I  proceeded. 

"  There  can  be  no  doubt,  I  suppose  that  earth, 
and  water,  and  air,  and  heat,  and  light,  work  all  the 
wonders  that  we  ever  see  in  this  apple-tree.  Do 
you  know  of  any  other  element  that  is  in  any  way 
concerned  in  the  growth  of  vegetables  ?" 

He  thought  there  could  not  be  any  other. 

"  Well,  then,"  I  said,  "  and  how  do  these  ele- 
ments make  the  tree  grow  ?" 

"  The  sap  rises  in  the  spring,"  he  answered, 
"  and  spreads  through  the  whole." 

"  But  what  is  the  sap  ?"  I  asked.  **  Is  it  any 
thing  else  but  the  mixture  of  those  several  ele- 
ments ?" 


240  THE    END    OF    INFIDELITY. 

He  allowed  that  it  could  not  be  any  thing 


"  Certainly,"  I  said,  "  it  cannot.  Now  there- 
fore tell  me  how  this  sap  makes  wood,  and  bark, 
and  leaves,  and  flowers,  and  fruit.  Had  this  tree 
any  leaves,  or  flowers,  a  month  ago?" 

"  It  had  not,"  he  said. 

"  What  a  nimble,  and  astonishing,  and  skilful 
workman,  then,"  I  said,  "  must  this  sap  be,  to  do 
so  much,  and  to  produce  such  beautiful  things  in 
so  short  a  space !  and  so  unlike  the  sap  itself  too! 
What  pencil  painted  these  flowers  with  such  live- 
ly, varying,  delicate  tints,  and  yet  had  only  the 
gross  materials  of  earth  and  water  to  do  it  with ; 
assisted,  indeed,  by  the  lighter  ones  of  air,  and 
heat,  and  light  ?  And  observe ;  the  sap  rises,  no 
doubt,  without  variation  in  itself,  to  that  point  in 
the  stem  from  whence  the  diflferent  branches  set 
out :  what  is  it  which  changes  the  proportions  of 
its  component  parts  afterwards  ?  For  almost  every 
branch,  you  see,  bears  a  diflJerent  flower  from  any 
other,  and  therefore  the  sap  must  run  through  it 
in  a  different  proportion,  or  with  a  different  power. 
Explain  this  to  me." 

"Oh!  Sir,"  he  answered,  "it  is  Nature  that 
does  it  all — Nature  is  wonderful  indeed!" 

"But  who,  or  what  is  Nature?"  I  asked. 
"  Is  Nature  any  living  being,  or  what  else  ?" 


THE    END    OF    INFIDELITY.  241 

"  Not  a  living  being,  certainly,"  he  said;  "but 
what  else  I  cannot  tell." 

"  If  Nature,  then,"  I  asked  again,  "be  without 
life  and  understanding,  what  can  she  do  by  her- 
self? In  point  of  fact,  when  we  talk  of  Nature, 
do  we  not  always  mean  the  rule,  or  law,  or  man- 
ner, in  and  by  which  all  things  produce  their  ends 
and  objects  ?  As  in  the  case  of  the  sap  ;  the  sap 
rises  by  a  certain  rule,  and  varies  the  proportions 
of  its  component  parts  by  a  certain  rule,  and  dis- 
poses itself  over  the  branches  of  the  tree  by  a  cer- 
tain rule ;  and  then  we  say  this  is  the  effect  of 
Nature." 

"  That  is  it,  I  dare  say,"  was  his  answer ;  and 
he  seemed  glad  to  escape  from  the  difficulty. 

But  I  immediately  rejoined,  "  If  this  be  so, 
then  we  must  have  somebody  who  made  the  rule ; 
somebody  who  laid  down  the  law ;  somebody  who 
ordained  the  manner,  according  to  which  all  mat- 
ter acts.  Rules  and  laws  do  not  make  themselves ; 
do  they?" 

Here  he  began  to  be  alarmed,  lest  he  should 
be  forced  to  acknowledge  the  necessity  of  a  God ; 
so  he  said,  "  May  not  all  these  things  take  place 
by  chance  ?" 

"  That  seems  impossible,"  I  replied.     "  It  is  at 
least  incredible.     Did  you  ever  see  these  branches 
bearing  different  fruits  at  different  times?" 
21 


242  THE    END    OF    INFIDELITY. 

"  No,"  he  said. 

"But  always  the  same?"     I  asked. 

"  Yes,"  he  answered ;  "  always  the  same." 

*'  Then  chance,"  I  continued,  "is  entirely  out 
of  the  question.  Things  which  never  vary  must 
proceed  by  some  steady,  constant  rule,  must  they 
not?" 

He  could  not  deny  it. 

"  Who  is  it,  then,"  I  asked,  "  that  made  this 
rule,  which  could  not  make  itself?" 

He  w^as  pressed  very  hard,  hut  could  not  bring 
himself  to  confess  that  there  must  be  a  God.  At 
last,  after  having  tried  various  v/ays,  as  it  seemed, 
in  his  own  mind,  to  avoid  this  necessity,  he  ex- 
claimed, with  a  sort  of  joy,  " I  have  it?  It  must 
be,  that  things  have  gone  on  in  the  same  manner 
always  without  any  beginning  at  all.  This  ac- 
counts for  every  thing  at  once  in  the  shortest  and 
simplest  way." 

"  It  appears  to  me,  on  the  contrary,"  I  said, 
"  that  this  supposition  of  yours  accounts  for  no- 
thing, and  increases  all  the  difficulties.  Suppose 
a  vast  chain  hanging  from  the  sky,  and  reaching 
within  a  few  yards  of  the  earth ;  and  I  should  ask 
you,  what  supports  the  bottom  link,  and  you 
should  tell  me  that  it  was  supported  by  the  link 
above  it,  and  that  those  two  links  were  supported 
by  the  third  link,  and  so  on ;  and  then  I  should 


T«E    END    OF    INFIDELITY.  243 

ask  what  supports  the  whole  chain  ?  Should  you 
think  it  a  sufficient  answer  to  say  that  the  chain 
had  no  first  link,  and  was  endless  ?  Must  not  an 
endless  chain  be  a  very  long  one,  and  consequent- 
ly be  a  very  heavy  one,  and  require  a  much  greater 
power  to  support  it  ?  If  a  chain  of  ten  links  re- 
quires a  certain  force  to  hold  it,  must  not  a  chain 
of  an  infinite  length  require  an  infinite  force  ? 
Because  the  chain  is  of  an  infinite  length,  you 
will  not  surely  say  that  it  requires  no  force  what- 
ever to  support  it." 

I  twisted  this  into  different  forms,  as  he 
was  obstinately  silent,  and  manifestly  confounded, 
though  resolute  not  to  yield ;  and  then  I  added, 
that  it  was  the  same  with  every  chain  of  causes 
and  effects.  "  Be  the  chain  as  long  as  it  may,  it 
requires  some  first  and  mighty  cause  to  set  the 
whole  in  motion.  It  is  the  same  also  with  the 
rule ;  however  long  it  may  have  been  in  action, 
there  must  have  been  a  maker  of  it ;  and  the  wiser 
the  rule  the  wiser  the  maker.  Indeed,  in  the 
case  of  a  rule,  the  matter  is  strikingly  evident. 
If  this  apple  tree  had  understanding  and  speech, 
it  would  tell  us,  no  doubt,  that  its  prime  end  and 
object  was  to  bear  fruit,  would  it  not?" 

"  It  would  certainly,"  he  said. 

"  And  are  there  not,"  I  asked,  "  many  contri- 


244  THE    END    OF    INFIDELITY. 

varices  about  the  tree  with  a  view  to  this  particu- 
lar purpose  of  bearing  fruit  ?" 

He  allowed  it. 

I  gathered  a  blossom,  and  continued,  "  Look 
at  this  blossom;  do  you  see  these  fine  threads, 
which  are  called  the  stamens  ?" 

"  I  do,"  he  answered. 

"  They  are  the  male  parts  of  the  flower,"  I 
said ;  "  and  the  fruit  could  not  be  produced  with- 
out them.  See  again  these  still  finer  threads,  in 
the  very  centre  ;  they  are  called  the  females,  and 
are  absolutely  essential.  In  the  little  heads  of 
the  stamens,  you  observe,  there  is  a  thin  powdery 
dust ;  some  of  it  falls,  when  ripe,  upon  the  sum- 
mits of  these  female  threads,  and  it  is  detained 
there  by  a  glutinous  liquid ;  afterwards  it  passes 
down  each  thread,  which  is  a  tube,  and  having 
arrived  at  the  bottom,  the  embryo  fruit  is  formed, 
and  begins  to  swell,  and  at  last  reaches  the  size 
of  the  apple,  which  you  commend  so  much.  Is 
not  all  this  wonderful?  Are  there  not  plain 
marks  about  it  of  contrivance  and  design  ?" 

He  confessed  that  it  seemed  so. 

"  And  who  ever  heard,"  I  asked,  "  of  contri- 
vance and  design,  without  a  contriver  and  de- 
signer ?" 

He  was  compelled  to  grant  that  it  was  incon- 
ceivable. 


THE    END    OF    INFIDELITY.  245 

"  Is  not  a  watch,"  I  said,  "  a  very  beautiful 
and  skillful  contrivance  for  showing  the  hour  and 
minute  of  day  and  night  ?" 

"  It  is  indeed,"  he  answered. 

"  And  when  you  see  it,"  I  continued,  "  do  you 
not  immediately  infer  a  watchmaker  ?" 

"  I  do,"  he  replied. 

I  asked  again,  "  You  would  think  it  absurd, 
would  you  not,  to  suppose  that  this  exact  order, 
directed  to  such  an  object,  sprung  from  chance? 
And  if  any  person  should  tell  you,  that  this  watch, 
after  all,  was  not  really  made  by  a  watchmaker, 
but  by  another  watch  adapted  to  the  purpose,  and 
furnished  with  a  most  complicated  machinery, 
what  would  you  think  of  it?" 

"  Why,  I  should  think,"  said  he,  "  that  the 
maker  of  the  other  watch  was  ten  thousand  times 
more  clever  than  I  thought  the  maker  of  the  sim- 
ple watch." 

"  You  would  be  perfectly  in  the  right,"  I  said. 
"  And  the  last  thing,  that  would  ever  come  into 
your  thoughts,  would  be,  that  a  watch,  which  was 
so  artfully  framed  as  to  make  another,  had  no 
(Contriver  and  maker  of  itself?" 

He  allowed  it  would ;  and  then  I  inquired,  if 
he  thought  we  could  get  rid  of  the  necessity  of  a 
contriver,  designer,  and  maker,  by  supposing  an 
21* 


246  THE    END    OF    INFIDELITY. 

endless  series  of  watches,  each  making  the  next 
to  it  in  the  series. 

"I  might  have  thought  so  before,"  he  replied; 
"  but  after  what  has  been  said,  I  cannot  think  so 
any  longer." 

"  Nothing  can  be  clearer,  and  more  indisputa- 
ble," said  I.  "  Wherever  there  is  an  undoubted 
contrivance,  there  is  an  undoubted  contriver  also, 
be  he  at  whatever  distance  he  may  from  the  pro- 
ductions of  the  present  moment.  Now,  I  ask  then, 
whether  man  be  not  one  of  the  most  astonishing 
contrivances  of  all  ?  And  if  so,  whether  you  think 
it  reasonable  that  a  watch  should  have  a  contriver, 
and  man  not  ?" 

He  was  speechless,  and  trembled  a  little; 
fearing,  as  it  should  seem,  that  there  must  be  a 
God,  who  at  first  created  him,  and  might  here- 
after judge  him.  Seeing  him  thus  affected,  I  con- 
cluded the  conversation ;  hoping  that  I  had  plant- 
ed a  sting  in  his  bosom,  which  would  give  him 
continual  pain,  until  he  had  searched  the  wound 
to  the  bottom;  and  I  added  only,  in  a  tone  of 
moderation,  and  without  any  appearance  of  a 
triumph,  "  Act  in  religion,  Mr.  Sambrook,  as  you 
do  in  other  things.  How  many  things  are  there 
of  which  you  know-nothing;  and  yet  you  believe 
and  act  as  if  your  knowledge  was  perfect  1  Why 
not  the  same  in  religion,  which  is  of  infinitely 


THE    END    OF    INFIDELITY.  247 

more  importance  than  any  thing  else?  And 
now,  that  you  have  discovered  a  God,  the  wise 
contriver  and  maker  of  all  things,  I  leave  you  to 
consider,  whether  he  ought  to  be  served  and  wor- 
shiped, or  not.  Good  morning !  I  wish  you 
well,  with  all  my  heart."  He  bowed,  and  we 
parted. 

I  DID  not  see  Mr.  Sambrook  again  so  soon  as 
I  expected.  He  made  two  more  payments,  but 
not  in  person  ;  the  money  having  been  sent  by  a 
child,  without  any  demand  for  a  receipt  or  memo- 
randum. At  length,  before  the  next  payment  be- 
came due,  he  visited  me  himself,  in  no  slight  tri- 
bulation. My  lawyer  had  delivered  a  bill  of  the 
expenses,  and  had  fixed  a  day  for  the  discharge 
of  it ;  this  was  not  attended  to,  and  the  conse- 
quence was,  that  a  letter  had  arrived,  thundering 
out  all  the  vengeance  of  the  law.  I  promised  at 
once  to  arrange  this  matter  for  him  ;  and  accord- 
ingly I  wrote  immediately,  in  his  presence,  to  de- 
sire, at  my  own  risk,  that  the  payment  of  the  costs 
might  be  deferred  till  after  the  payment  of  the 
instalments. 

This,  then,  having  been  settled  to  his  satisfac- 
tion, I  expressed  my  regret  that  two  or  three  Sun- 
days had  passed  since  our  last  conversation,  with- 
out my  seeing  him  at  church. 


248  THE    END    OF    INFIDELITY. 

"  Why,  Sir,"  he  said,  "to  tell  you  the  truth,  I 
think  what  you  said  to  me  was  very  clever,  and  I 
could  not  contradict  it  at  the  time.  But  I  have 
considered  since,  that  the  matter  is  not  quite  so 
clear  as  you  tried  to  make  it  appear  to  be.  You 
told  me  that  God  contrived  and  made  every  thing  ; 
and  you  spoke  also  of  his  wisdom.  Now,  a  wise 
person,  I  should  suppose,  would  never  contrive  or 
make  any  thing  useless,  or  mischievous ;  and 
you  cannot  deny  that  we  are  over-run  with  such 
things,  both  of  the  animal  and  vegetable  kinds — 
What  say  you  to  this.  Sir  ?" 

^  You  mean,  perhaps,"  I  replied,  "  such  ani- 
mals as  destroy  your  corn  and  your  fruit ;  and 
vegetables,  like  nettles,  and  docks,  and  brambles, 
and  briars,  and  other  weeds,  which  cost  you  so 
much  pains  to  extirpate,  and  which,  if  neglected, 
would  exhaust  upon  their  own  growth  all  the 
riches  of  the  soil?" 

"  r  do,"  he  said.  "  And  as  you  have  your- 
self mentioned  nettles,  I  should  be  glad  if  you 
would  show  me  their  use ;  that  I  might  have  a 
jeason  for  thinking  that  they  had  a  wdse  maker." 

Mz.  Bambrook  was  disposed  to  be  jocose  with 
me,  fancying  that  I  could  not  attempt  so  ridicu- 
lous a  thing  ^as  to  prove  nettles  to  be  useful. 
However,  i  inquired  if  he  would  consider  any 
substance  to  be  useful  which  contributed  to  the 


THE    END    or    INFIDELITY.  249 

support  of  men.  He  allowed  that  he  should  ;  but 
he  was  sure  that  nettles  did  not  so  contribute; 
unless  I  pretended  that  nettle-broth  was  good  for 
an  ague.  Here  he  laughed,  and  seemed  highly 
diverted  with  the  notion  of  nettles  contributing  to 
the  support  of  mankind.  I  was  pleased  to  see 
him  in  good  humor,  and  calling  one  of  my  chil- 
dren, I  desired  him  to  bring  me  the  largest  nettle 
that  he  could  find,  in  a  few  minutes,  and  to  take 
especial  care  not  to  prick  himself  with  it.  Mr. 
Sambrook  was  still  more  amused,  and  joked  with 
the  little  boy  about  carrying  the  nettle,  and  advi- 
sed him  to  put  his  gloves  on.  Meanwhile,  I 
asked  whether  men  ate  millstones.  He  began 
to  think  me  crazy. 

"  But,"  I  said,  "  millstones  may  be  useful,  may 
they  not,  although  they  are  not  eatable?  So 
that,"  I  went  on,  "  to  prove  a  thing  to  be  useful  to 
men,  as  contributing  to  their  support,  it  is  only 
necessary  to  show  that  it  is,  in  the  order  of  causes, 
like  the  millstone,  near  or  remote." 

He  granted  it. 

"  Now  look  at  this  nettle  then,"  I  said,  which 
the  child  had  just  brought  into  the  room  ;  and 
upon  the  leaves  of  which,  on  a  slight  examination, 
I  discovered  several  insects  of  the  same  species, 
enjoying,  as  it  appeared,  a  most  delicious  meal, 

"Well,"  he  cried,  "  [  did  not  know  to  a  cer- 


250  THE    END    OF    INFIDELITY. 

tainty  before  that  any  creature  loved  nettles.  But 
what  has  this  to  do  with  our  present  talk  ?" 

"  It  is  most  closely  concerned  with  it,"  I  re* 
plied.  "  These  insects  are  the  food  of  other  ani- 
mals, and  those  other  animals  are  the  food  of  man." 

"  Yes,  Papa,"  said  the  little  boy ;  "  I  have 
often  seen  the  birds  flying  out  of  the  nettles,  but  I 
never  knew  before  that  they  went  there  for  their 
food." 

Mr.  Sambrook  was  evidently  staggered :  but 
his  natural  shrewdness  did  not  forsake  him  ;  and 
he  inquired  immediately,  whether  it  would  not 
have  been  more  wise  to  have  provided  something 
for  these  insects  that  was  less  mischievous  to  us. 

"  Then,"  said  I,  "you  would  wish,  I  suppose, 
rather  than  not,  that  snails,  and  caterpillars,  and 
other  noxious  creatures,  as  they  are  called,  fed 
upon  your  lettuces,  and  cabbages,  and  richest 
fruits?" 

"  Not  that  exactly  neither,"  he  replied. 

"  Would  it  not  be  best,"  I  inquired,  "  if  they  fed 
entirely  upon  weeds  ?" 

He  allowed  it. 

"  But  these  weeds  must  have  ground  to  grow 
upon;  must  they  not  ?  And  wherever  they  grow, 
they  become  hurtful  to  other  more  valuable  plants; 
do  they  not?" 

"  They  do,"  he  replied. 


THE    END    OF    INFIDELITY,  251 

"  Is  industry  better  than  idleness  ?"  I  asked. 
•'  Certainly,"  he  answered. 
"  Does  not  the  clearing  away  of  weeds  abso- 
lutely require  industry?"  I  asked  again.  "  And 
is  not  idleness  always  punished  by  the  growth  of 
weeds,  and  the  consequent  impoverishment  of  the 
valuable  crop?" 

•'  It  is  true,  undoubtedly,"  was  his  answer. 
"  Then  after  all,"  I  said,  "  these  contemptible 
and  noxious  vegetables,  as  we  consider  them,  may 
answer  the  purposes  of  a  wise  Being,  who  has  a 
vast  variety  of  creatures  to  provide  for,  and  who 
may  wish  to  make  the  virtue  of  industry  necessary 
to  man.  In  fact,  the  whole  truth  of  the  matter  is 
to  be  found  only  in  tiiis  precious  book,  which  lies 
here  upon  my  table,  and  out  of  which  I  will  now 
read  to  you  the  account  of  it." 

"Dear  me!  Sir,"  he  exclaimed:  "I  never 
thought  that  I  was  come  here  to  have  the  Bible 
read  to  me !" 

"What  can  the  minister  do  better,"  I  said, 
"  than  to  read  God's  book  to  his  flock  ;  and  what 
can  you  do  better  than  s-tudy  it  %  In  our  last  con- 
versation you  told  me  that  it  was  impossible  for 
you  to  ascertain  any  thing  about  the  nature  of 
God  ;  now  I  tell  you  that  you  may  ascertain  every 
thing  necessary  to  be  known  about  him  by  the 
study   of  this   holy   book.     Listen   therefore,  at 


252  THE     END    OF    INFIDELITY. 

least  whilst  I  read  the  explanation  of  this  one 
fact." 

I  then  took  the  Bible  into  my  hands,  and 
selected  a  few  verses  from  the  three  first  chapters 
of  Genesis ;  particularly  dwelling  upon  the  cir- 
cumstance, that  when  God  rested  from  the  great 
work  of  creation,  he  saw  every  thing  Avhich  he 
had  made,  and  behold  it  was  very  good ;  but  that 
after  the  transgression  of  Adam  and  Eve,  the 
ground  was  cursed  for  their  sakes,  and  com- 
manded to  produce  thorns  and  thistles  ;  that  they 
and  all  their  descendants  might  eat  bread  in  the 
sweat  of  their  brows,  until  they  returned  unto  the 
the  dust,  from  which  they  were  taken.  Having 
commented  upon  this  great  transaction  in  such  a 
manner  as  to  make  him  catch  at  least  some 
glimpses  of  it,  (for  he  was  entirely  uninformed 
about  it  before,)  I  proceeded  thus: — 

"  See  now,  Mr.  Sambrook,  the  wonderful  good- 
ness of  God,  who  even  in  judgment  always  re- 
members mercy.  He  diminished  indeed  the  origi- 
nal happiness  of  man  :  but  what  a  happy  world  is 
this  after  all  !  Many  people  have  not  sense 
enough  to  see  it,  because  it  is  indulged  commonly 
to  all  of  us ;  and  too  many  who  see  it  have  not 
gratitude  enough  to  acknowledge  it.  Food  and 
drink,  generally  speaking,  cannot  be  procured 
without  labor  ;  can  they  ?" 


THE    END    OF    INFIDELITY.  253 

"  Certainly  not,"  he  answered. 

"  And  people  must  eat  and  drink,  to  live  must 
they  not  ?"   I  asked. 

"  They  must,"  he  said. 

"So  that  if  it  had  been  a  painful  thing  to 
eat  and  drink,  yet  men  would  have  gladly  sub- 
mitted to  it;  would  they  not?"  I  asked  again. 

He  agreed  with  me  that  they  undoubtedly 
would. 

"  What  do  you  think  of  it  then  yourself?"  I 
inquired.  "  Do  you  reckon  it  a  painful  thing  to 
eat  and  drink,  which  you  would  not  undergo,  but 
for  the  sake  of  preserving  life  ?" 

He  candidly  confessed  that  eating  and  drink- 
ing, on  the  very  contrary,  were  amongst  the  most 
pleasant  and  delightful  of  all  acts,  and  that  proba- 
bly millions  of  men  were  scarcely  conscious  of 
any  other  pleasure. 

'•  But  God,"  I  said,  "  who  made  eating  and 
drinking  necessary,  might  have  superadded  to  it 
either  pain  or  pleasure,  just  as  it  suited  his  own 
temper ;  his  having  made  it  pleasant  and  delight- 
ful, therefore,  was  a  signal  mark  of  pure,  abund- 
ant, and  disinterested  goodness." 

Mr.  Sambrook  seemed  to  be  let  into  a  new 
world.  He  made  no  scruple  whatever  to  tell  me, 
that  he  never  recollected  once  to  have  thought  of 
such  things ;  and  I  might  perhaps  have  pursued 


254  THE    END    OF    INFIDELITY. 

the  conversation  in  the  same  strain  to  his  ad- 
vantage ;  but  I  was  aware  that  he  could  not  con- 
veniently be  spared  from  his  business,  and  there- 
fore I  dismissed  him  with  these  words  : 

"  This,  Sir,  is  but  one  proof,  out  of  an  infinite 
number  of  proofs,  of  God's  goodness.  The  whole 
day  would  be  gone  before  we  could  speak  of  a 
millionth  part  of  them.  His  mercies  are  over  all 
his  works.  Think  of  this,  and  you  will  begin  to 
love  him,  and  to  desire  to  please  him,  and  serve 
him,  and  to  be  more  satisfied  with  yourself  And, 
however  you  may  be  conscious  to  yourself,  that 
you  fall  below  the  perfection  of  his  law,  yet  do 
not  fear.  He,  in  the  exercise  of  the  same  good- 
ness, has  provided  a  remedy  for  this,  with  which 
you  may  become  acquainted,  by  reading  the  New 
Testament,  and  by  frequenting  your  church.  In 
both  those  acts  too,  you  may  expect  God's  especial 
blessing  to  light  upon  you." 

He  departed,  without  letting  me  into  the  pre- 
sent state  of  his  feelings.  If  the  coming  to  church 
was  to  be  the  test  of  any  serious  change,  I  feared 
that  he  would  find  it  a  most  difficult  thing  to  do 
so.  Shame  alone  was  too  likely  to  deter  him. 
However,  I  trusted  to  time,  the  continuance  of  our 
conversations,  and  the  good  providence  of  God. 


THE    END    OF    INFIDELITY.  255 

In  the  interval,  between  this  and  our  next 
meeting,  an  awful  event  occurred  in  Mr.  Sam- 
brook's  family,  which  was  calculated  to  pro- 
mote my  views,  by  leading  naturally  to  serious 
and  solemn  reflection.  A  sister,  who  had  come 
from  a  distance  to  visit  him,,  died  suddenly 
in  his  house.  He  attended  the  funeral,  which 
took  place  in  my  own  church-yard ;  and  I  myself 
performed  the  ceremony.  In  this,  and  in  the  other 
occasional  services,  I  always  take  the  utmost  pains 
to  give  them  their  due  effect.  Many  persons  are 
present  at  marriages,  and  christenings,  and  fune- 
rals, who  never  have  come  to  church  on  any  other 
occasion  ;  and  they  are  the  only  opportunities 
which  the  minister  has  of  making  any  impression 
upon  them  whatever ;  opportunities  which  he 
would  be  unwise  to  neglect.  If  he  can  but  touch 
their  hearts  by  the  solemn  devoutness  of  his  tone, 
and  manner,  in  these  services,  they  may  be  tempted 
to  come  and  see  what  he  is  in  his  greater  function 
of  preaching.  I  know  indeed,  that  this  has  fre- 
quently happened;  and  I  know  also,  on  the  other 
hand,  that  much  scandal  has  arisen  where  this 
salutary,  and  but  decent  practice,  has  not  been  at- 
tended to.  People  have  gone  away  with  the  full 
idea  that  the  minister  cared  nothing  about  these 
duties ;  which  was  either  a  great  shock  to  their 
feelings,  if  they  were  religious  persons,  or  con* 


256  THE    END    OF    INFIDELITY* 

firmed  them  in  their  irreligion,  if  they  were  the 
contrary.  In  both  cases  great  mischief  has  been 
done. 

On  the  present  occasion,  I  acted  only  as  I 
always  do ;  and  I  found  that  it  was  noticed,  to  the 
credit  of  our  religion.  The  funeral  was  on  a 
Sunday,  and  the  crowd  was  the  more  numerous. 
In  a  few  days  after,  I  met  Mr.  Sambrook  on  a 
private  foot-path,  and  he  immediately  mentioned 
the  subject,  and  told  me,  that  his  late  sister's  hus- 
band, now  a  widower,  had  derived  much  comfort 
from  the  manner  in  which  I  had  read  the  burial 
service.  "I  believe,  Mr.  Sambrook,"  I  said,  "that 
I  always  read  it  in  the  same  manner  ;  but  perhaps, 
unconsciously  on  your  account,  I  might  have 
given  it  somewhat  of  an  additional  awe  and  so- 
lemnity. Your  poor  sister  died  suddenly;  I  have 
told  you  that  I  thought  it  probable  your  OAvn  end 
might  be  the  same.  This  was  in  my  mind,  whilst  I 
stood  by  the  side  of  the  grave,  and  saw  you  look- 
ing into  it ;  and  possibly  it  might  have  led  me 
imperceptibly,  to  speak  with  a  more  serious  and 
warning  voice.  God  grant  that  it  may  have  suc- 
ceeded !" 

He  was  quite  at  a  loss  what  to  say  to  this. 
He  was  affected  in  some  way  or  other,  which  I 
could  not  explain ;  and  at  all  events,  he  seemed  to 
wish  to   escape  from  any  further   conversation. 


THE    END    OF    INFIDELITY.  257 

But  I  was  unwilling  to  lose  so  favorable  an  op- 
portunity; and  therefore  I  turned  about,  and  of- 
fered to  accompany  him  in  the  direction  in  which 
he  was  going.  He  could  not  refuse  with  any  de- 
gree of  civility ;  so  we  walked  together ;  and  that 
I  might  not  appear  to  force  the  subject  of  religion 
upon  him,  in  season,  or  out  of  season,  I  waited  to 
take  advantage  of  any  thing  which  he  might 
happen  to  say. 

The  funeral  was  still  in  his  thoughts ;  and  the 
first  observation  that  he  made  was,  that  the  de- 
scription of  the  resurrection  of  the  dead,  which  I 
had  read  to  them  in  the  lesson,  was  certainly  very 
fine,  but  that  he  could  not  believe  a  word  about  the 
resurrection  itself 

"  Do  you  think  it  is  not  possible,"  I  asked, 
"  or  not  probable  ?" 

"  Neither  the  one,"  he  answered,  '•  nor  the 
other." 

"As  to  the  possibility  of  the  thing,"  I  said, 
"your  difficulty,  I  presume,  arises  from  your 
knowing  that  the  body,  after  death,  is  dissolved 
into  dust,  and  in  many  cases  scattered  abroad  in 
different  places  ;  and  you  cannot  conceive  how  the 
particles  can  be  brought  together  again,  so  as  to 
preserve  the  identity ;  or,  in  plainer  words,  so  as 
to  be  known  to  be  the  same  body." 

"  That  is  it,  exactly,"  said  he. 
'22* 


258  THE    END    OF    INFIDELITY. 

I  was  very  much  relieved  by  this  answer;  for 
I  was  alarmed  ]est  I  might  be  led  into  an  inter- 
minable discussion  about  the  soul,  in  regard  to 
which  I  was  sure  that  he  had  none  but  the 
most  vulgar  ideas ;  and  probably  he  had  no  clear 
ideas  at  all  about  the  soul,  as  distinct  from  the 
body ;  and  I  did  not  see  how  we  could  ever  arrive 
at  any  thing  practical  by  that  line  of  argument, 
I  therefore  proceeded  at  once  to  argue  upon  his 
own  difficulty,  and  was  very  careful  not  to  put 
any  new  one  into  his  head. 

•'  You  have  mentioned  St.  Paul,"  I  said,  "  al- 
ready, as  a  most  distinguished  preacher  of  the 
gospel.  It  seems,  therefore,  that  you  know  some- 
thing of  his  character.  It  was  he  who  wrote  the 
epistle  from  which  the  lesson  is  taken.  Do  you 
remember  how  he  explains,  or  illustrates,  the  re- 
surrection ?" 

"Yes,"  he  replied;  "by  the  sowing  of  the 
seed ;  but  I  could  not  comprehend  it ;  in  short,  it 
seemed  quite  ridiculous." 

We  were  walking  at  this  moment  through  a 
field  of  wheat. 

"  If  I  am  not  mistaken,"  I  said,  "  this  is  one 
of  your  fields." 

He  nodded  assent. 

"  And  perhaps  you  sowed  this  wheat  yourself?" 

He  assented  again. 


THE    END    OF    INFIDELITY.  259 

"  But  it  did  not  occur  to  you,  it  seems,  that 
whilst  you  were  sowing,  you  Avere  in  fact  burying 
every  single  grain  in  its  own  little  grave  ?" 

•'  No,  it  did  not,"  he  said;  "  but  it  was  certain- 
ly something  very  much  like  it." 

"Very  like  indeed,"  I  proceeded;  "and  there- 
fore so  far  St.  Paul  was  in  the  right.  And  the 
grains  which  you  scattered  about  in  the  furrows 
were  dead  ;  were  they  not  ?" 

"  Why  to  be  sure,"  he  answered,  "  they  might 
be  called  dead ;  as  all  the  moisture,  which  they 
had  in  them  whilst  they  were  growing,  seemed  to 
be  entirely  dried  up,  and  there  was  no  appearance 
of  life  about  them ;  they  had  become  quite  hard, 
and  fit  to  be  ground  into  flour." 

"  Well,"  I  said  ;  "  and  what  became  of  them, 
when  they  were  mixed  with  the  soil  and  buried  ? 
Did  they  not  begin  to  rot,  as  any  human  body 
might  do  ?" 

He  granted  it. 

"  Still,  then,  St.  Paul  is  correct ;  but  now  comes 
the  surprising  change.  When  you  might  have 
expected  the  grains  of  seed  to  have  rotted  entirely 
away,  and  to  disappear  altogether,  up  sprung  from 
them  innumerable  small  green  blades,  apparently 
of  grass ;  did  there  not  ?" 

"  There  did,"  he  answered. 

"  In  fact,"  I  said,  "  if  you  had  examined  those 


260  THE    END    OF    INFIDELITY. 

seeds,  whilst  they  were  rotting  in  the  ground,  you 
would  have  found  something  in  them  most  won- 
derful amongst  all  the  wonderful  things  which 
surround  us  ;  you  would  have  found  in  each  the 
rudiment,  or  principle,  or  whatever  it  may  be  call- 
ed, of  a  new  plant ;  something,  indeed,  which  had 
all  the  parts  of  a  plant  in  miniature,  and  which 
only  wanted  the  heat  and  moisture  arising  from 
the  putrefaction  of  the  rest  of  the  seed  to  make  it 
vegetate  and  grow ;  have  you  observed  this,  or 
not?" 

"  I  have  often  observed  it,"  he  replied. 

"  So  then,"  I  said,  "  the  great  Apostle  might 
have  thought  of  some  similar  principle  in  the  de- 
caying body  of  a  man,  which  hereafter  might  shoot 
into  life,  and  produce  the  new  man." 

"  Yes,"  said  he,  "  but  we  see  nothing  of  this 
sort  in  the  human  body." 

"  Nor  do  we,"  I  rejoined,  "  in  the  dry  grain ; 
it  appears  afterwards,  according  to  the  law,  which 
God  himself  has  established.  For,  you  may  re- 
member, in  talking  of  the  apple-tree,  we  were 
forced  to  impute  every  thing  to  the  will  and  the 
wisdom  of  God;  and  so  we  must  in  this  case. 
Pray  what  lodged  that  little  embryo  plant  in  the 
body  of  the  seed  ?  What  made  it  sprout  upwards 
and  downwards,  upwards  into  the  green  blade 
and  downwards  into  the  root  ?     Who  put  the  em- 


THE    END    OF    INFIDELITY.  261 

bryo  plant  into  the  right  position  to  do  this  ?  And 
did  not  a  stem  afterwards  issue  out  of  the  blade, 
and  then  an  ear  from  the  top  of  the  stem,  and 
lastly  was  not  the  ear  filled  with  grains  ?  Who 
planned  all  this,  and  ordained  the  means  by  which 
the  plan  was  executed  1  You  and  I  know  nothing 
at  all  about  it;  no,  nor  the  wisest  philosopher. 
In  many  cases,  in  which  we  are  ignorant,  a  per- 
son more  skilled  in  the  knowledge  of  nature  than 
we  are  may  be  perfectly  informed;  so  that  it 
would  be  vastly  foolish  for  us  to  say  that  such  or 
such  a  thing  cannot  be  believed,  or  cannot  be, 
merely  because  we  do  not  understand  the  how  or 
the  why  of  the  thing ;  for  others  may  understand 
it  very  well,  and  we  ourselves  may  come  to  un- 
derstand it  hereafter.  In  this  case,  however,  of 
the  growth  of  the  corn,  we  are  all  ignorant,  both 
wise  and  simple ;  and  we  shall  probably  remain 
so.  But  what  of  that  ?  The  thing  is  as  it  is,  and 
goes  on  nevertheless — Why  ?  Because  God  is  the 
author  of  it,  and  keeps  the  necessary  causes  in  un- 
interrupted operation.  Have  you  any  thing  to 
object  to  this?" 

"  I  have  not,"  he  answered,  "  1  see  clearly  that 
there  must  be  a  God,  and  I  begin  to  admire  his 
works." 

"  Go  on  and  prosper,"  I  said.  "  The  more 
you   know  of  them,  the  more  you  will  admire 


262  THE    END    OF    INFIDELITY. 

them;  and  the  more,  I  hope,  you  will  love  and 
serve  the  Doer!  But  now  tell  me,  is  there  any- 
thing more  wonderful,  or  more  hard  for  God  to 
do,  in  the  resurrection  of  a  dead  body  from  the 
grave,  than  in  the  production  of  the  wheat  from 
the  seed?" 

"  There  is  a  great  difference,"  he  replied,  "  in 
the  two  things,  after  all." 

'*  There  may  be  a  hundred  differences,"  I  re- 
joined; "but  what  of  that?  Does  it  follow,  that 
of  two  things,  one  is  possible,  and  the  other  impos- 
sible, because  this  other  is  not  like  the  former  in 
all  respects,  when  God  too  is  the  worker  ?" 

He  could  not  say  that. 

"  Well,  then,"  I  went  on,  "  here  is  a  thing, 
namely,  the  resurrection  of  the  dead,  of  which  we 
have  yet  no  experience.  St.  Paul,  indignant  that 
any  man  should  doubt  it,  when  God  had  said  that 
he  would  do  it,  tells  the  doubters  that  they  might 
form  some  idea  of  it  from  the  sowing  of  seed  and 
the  growing  of  the  grain,  which  is  equally  inex- 
plicable, but  of  which  the  fact  is  well  known  to 
us.  Shall  we  quarrel  with  the  apostle,  because 
the  two  things  cannot  be  exactly  alike  in  all  cir- 
cumstances ?  But  what  are  the  circumstances  that 
are  unlike  ?" 

"  The  new  plant,"  he  answered,  "  springs 
up   from   the  seed,  after  a   short   period,  before 


THE    END    OF    INFIDELITY.  263 

the  whole  seed  itself  is  turned  into  vegetable 
mould." 

"Very  well,"  I  said;  "but  it  did  not  suit  the 
purposes  of  Providence,  that  there  should  be  a 
resurrection  of  the  dead  soon  after  the  burial  of 
each  corpse,  but  one  simultaneous  resurrection  of 
all  at  the  last  day ;  on  account  of  the  general 
judgment  of  mankind,  then  to  take  place,  and 
thereafter  the  everlasting  separation  of  the  good 
and  the  bad  into  Heaven  and  Hell." 

He  seemed  to  shudder  at  this  thought ;  but  he 
made  no  remark.  I  therefore  proceeded — "  To 
bring  about  a  general  resurrection  at  the  moment, 
in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  at  the  mighty  sound  of 
a  trumpet  piercing  to  the  remotest  corners  of  the 
universe ;  undoubtedly  there  must  be  causes  at 
work  with  which  we  are  unacquainted,  or  God 
himself  may  do  it  immediately  by  an  especial  act 
of  power,  when  the  appointed  time  is  come. 
Either  way  there  ought  to  be  no  difficulty  to  us, 
unless  we  think  that  God  is  neither  all-wise,  nor 
almighty.  He,  whose  contrivances  are  so  subtle 
and  so  complicated  in  thousands  of  natural  things, 
may  readily  be  supposed  capable  of  this ;  and  he, 
whose  power  was  great  enough  to  make  man  at 
the  first,  and  is  great  enough  to  unmake  him  every 
day,  in  the  midst  of  health  and  strength,  may 


264  THE    END    OF    INFIDELITY. 

readily  be  supposed  capable  of  making  him  again 
after  death.     Is  not  this  so  ?" 

"  These  are  wonderful  things,"  he  answered, 
"  but  I  cannot  contradict  them.  I  wish,  however, 
to  know  what  will  become  of  bodies  which  are 
scattered  about  in  various  distant  places,  and  parts 
of  which  perhaps  have  passed  into  other  sub- 
stances !" 

"  Alas !  alas !  Mr.  Sambrook,"  I  said,  "  if  you 
had  but  looked  into  your  Bible  now  and  then,  you 
would  have  had  more  exalted  ideas  of  God's  pow- 
er ;  so  as  not  to  stumble  at  such  petty  difficulties. 
He  that  said,  let  there  be  light,  and  there  was 
light,  cannot  he  order  all  the  particles  of  a  man's 
body,  scattered  wherever  they  may  be ;  east,  west, 
north,  and  south;  on  the  tops  of  the  highest 
mountains,  and  at  the  bottoms  of  the  deepest 
oceans  ;  to  return  in  an  instant  of  time  to  the  rest 
of  the  mass,  and  to  rebuild  the  former  man  !  Cer- 
tainly he  can ;  he  has  only  to  will,  and  the  thing 
is  done.  He  cannot  but  know  where  every  par- 
ticle is,  and  no  particle  can  be  beyond  the  reach 
of  his  power.  But  perhaps  nothing  of  this  kind 
will  be  necessary ;  all,  indeed,  that  is  necessary  is 
this  ;  that  after  the  resurrection  we  should  be  cer- 
tain we  are  the  same  persons  as  before ;  and  that 
is  possible  with  a  very  great  change  of  our  bodies, 
as  is  proved  in  our  passage  from  childhood  to  old 


THE    END    OF    INFIDELITY.  265 

age ;  every  particle  is  changed,  again  and  again, 
and  yet  we  are  always  conscious  of  our  own  iden- 
tity. Let  us  have  done  then  with  cavils,  Mr.  Sam- 
brook.  It  is  God  who  has  promised  it,  and  he 
will  not  fail.  This  settles  the  question  of  proba- 
bility at  once.  We  should  have  known  nothing 
about  it,  but  for  God's  revelation.  We  might  have 
hoped  a  little  about  the  soul,  that  it  would  survive 
the  shock  of  death;  but  the  resurrection  of  the  body, 
we  should  not  have  dreamed  of  He  has  revealed 
it  to  us,  and  therefore  it  is  not  only  possible  and 
probable,  but  absolutely  certain.  God  cannot  lie. 
But  we  must  always  remember  that  there  will  be 
a  resurrection,  both  of  the  just  and  of  the  unjust ; 
and  may  he  grant,  for  our  Savior  Jesus  Christ's 
sake,  that  you  and  I  may  be  amongst  the  just !" 

I  had  walked  as  far  as  was  convenient  to  me, 
when  I  spoke  these  last  words ;  and  it  did  not 
seem  likely,  if  I  continued  the  conversation,  that 
I  could  have  concluded  with  any  thing  more  for- 
cible. I  turned,  therefore,  suddenly,  and  took  my 
leave. 

About  two  days  after  this  conversation,  as  I 
was  walking  through  my  parish  to  visit  the  sick, 
Mr.  Grange,  whom  I  met  frequently  on  the  road, 
accosted  me  unusually,  and  inquired  if  I  had 
heard  the  news. 

23 


266  THE    END    OF    INFIDELITY. 

"  What  news  ?"  I  said,  "  I  have  heard  none." 

"About  Mr.  Sambrook,  Sir.  He  is  dead!" 
replied  Mr.  Grange. 

"  Mr.  Sambrook  dead !"  I  exclaimed,  with  a 
mixture  of  surprise  and  terror.  "  God  forbid,  Sir ! 
I  should  fear  he  was  scarcely  prepared  to  die ;  but 
God  knows  best  when  it  is  fit,  in  the  exercise  of 
his  government  of  the  world,  to  inflict  the  blow 
of  death !" 

"  Be  that  as  it  may,  Sir,"  said  he,  "  Mr.  Sam- 
brook is  certainly  dead.  And  now  I  see  that  it  will 
give  you  still  greater  pain  to  hear  the  manner  of 
his  death.  He  used  to  be  your  enemy,  Sir ;  and 
there  are  too  many  who  would  be  glad  of  the  mis- 
fortunes of  an  enemy ;  which  you,  I  perceive,  are 
not." 

I  was,  indeed,  very  much  shocked,  and  be- 
trayed my  inward  feelings  by  my  outward  man- 
ner. At  the  same  time,  I  was  eager  to  know 
more  ;  I  desired,  and  yet  feared  to  be  told  the  rest. 
A  thousand  ideas  darted  through  my  head,  like 
lightning ;  but  that  something  tragical  was  to  be 
told,  I  had  no  doubt  whatever. 

"He  was  thrown,  Sir,"  said  Mr.  Grange,  "last 
night  from  his  chaise,  and  killed  upon  the  spot." 

"  What  ?"  I  said,  "  without  any  preparation  ? 
Not  a  moment  spared  to  ask  God  to  pardon 
him?" 


THE    END    OF    INFIDELITY.  267 

"  I  am  told,  Sir,"  he  replied,  "  that  the  unfortu- 
nate man  scarcely  breathed  when  he  was  found, 
which  was  immediately  after  the  accident." 

"  Let  us  all  take  warning,  Mr.  Grange,"  I  said, 
and  passed  on  hastily ;  for  I  was  deeply  affected, 
and  wanted  a  short  time  for  silent  meditation,  on 
the  judgments  of  the  Almighty  disposer  of  all 
events. 

In  the  course  of  my  walk,  I  was  informed  by 
various  persons  of  all  the  particulars  of  Mr.  Sam- 
brook's  death.  It  seems  that  he  had  been  drinking 
at  a  tavern ;  and,  either  from  natural  good-humor, 
or  stimulated  by  liquor,  had  undertaken  to  convey 
some  people,  whom  he  met  there,  in  his  chaise  to 
the  neighboring  parish.  Having  done  this,  and 
having  probably  drunk  something  more  there,  and 
again  on  his  return  to  another  tavern,  he  was  so 
far  heated  as  to  contend  for  the  lead  on  a  narrow 
road,  with  another  chaise  of  the  same  description 
as  his  own.  The  wheels  of  the  two  chaises  came 
in  contact  with  each  other ;  he  was  thrown  for- 
ward with  violence,  in  consequence  of  the  sudden 
stop  ;  he  fell  upon  his  head  ;  his  neck  was  dislo- 
cated ;  and  his  death  was  instantaneous. 

My  anxiety  about  him  led  me  to  inquire  what 
had  been  his  habits  since  I  began  first  to  converse 
with  him.  I  think  I  ascertained  that  he  had 
been  much  less  frequently  at  the  public-houses; 


268  THE    END    OF    INFIDELITY. 

but  nobody  assigned  any  other  cause  of  this' ap- 
parent amendment  than  the  increasing  want  of 
money.  Whether  he  was  amended  in  any  other 
respects  after  his  mind  had  been  in  some  measure 
enlightened,  I  cannot  tell.  On  the  fatal  day  of 
his  death,  he  was  evidently  intoxicated  ;  or  a  man 
of  his  age  would  never  have  engaged  in  so  child- 
ish and  dangerous  a  contest.  As  to  church,  he 
had  never  been  there,  except  at  his  sister's  funeral ; 
although  I  had  expected  it  of  him,  as  the  proof  of 
his  intention  to  begin  a  new  life. 

His  death,  owing  to  the  awful  circumstances 
of  it,  and  the  idea  which  had  got  abroad  that  he 
had  despised  my  warning  voice,  produced  a  great 
sensation  in  the  parish.  At  the  funeral  there  was 
an  immense  concourse  of  people.  The  distress 
of  the  widoAV  and  daughters  seemed  to  be  beyond 
all  measure.  The  daughters  fainted  again  and 
again;  the  widow  was  supported  by  two  of  her 
sons,  and  made  several  attempts  to  throw  herself 
into  the  grave.  The  church-yard  resounded  with 
their  cries.  This  at  first  astonished  me.  If  these 
persons  had  been  brought  up  in  religious  habits, 
or  were  likely  to  be  touched  with  religious  feel- 
ings, the  scene  before  them  was  undoubtedly  most 
affecting  and  most  terrible.  A  husband,  a  father, 
having  persisted  to  the  last  in  a  vicious  course, 
and  in  the  utter  neglect  of  his  Maker  and  Re- 


THE    END    OF    INFIDELITY.  269 

deemer,  in  spite  of  the  instructions  and  admonitions 
of  his  minister,  was  now  hurled  on  the  sudden  by- 
avenging  justice,  as  it  might  reasonably  be  feared, 
into  a  bitter  eternity.  But  the  case  with  these  per- 
sons was  apparently  the  reverse,  and  must  be  ex- 
plained in  a  different  manner.  And  a  circum- 
stance, which  came  soon  afterwards  to  my  know- 
ledge, did,  I  think,  sufficiently  explain  it.  Much 
noise  and  tumult  vvels  heard  within  the  poor  man's 
premises  during  the  whole  evening  of  the  funeral; 
such  as  is  the  consequence  of  intoxication ;  and  it 
is  more  than  probable  that  those  who  attended  the 
funeral  were  excited  by  the  force  of  liquor  to  that 
exhibition  of  excessive  grief,  with  which  the  sober- 
minded  were  shocked  and  disgusted. 

I  had  an  opportunity  of  discovering  afterwards, 
that  the  sons  and  daughters  had  a  very  inadequate 
feeling  of  their  father's  calamity.  They  came  to 
me  three  or  four  times  about  the  settlement  of  his 
debt,  which,  at  length,  was  finally  discharged. 
At  first  I  feared  to  wound  them  to  the  quick  by 
mentioning  his  dreadful  end;  but  I  soon  found 
that  there  was  no  occasion  for  any  delicacy.  They 
were  manifestly  very  little  moved  by  it.  How- 
ever, one  or  two  of  them  came  to  church  at  inter- 
vals, in  consequence  of  what  I  then  said  to  them. 
The  widow,  whom   I  have  not  been  able  to  see, 

came  once  only. 

23* 


270  THE    END    OF    INFIDELITY. 

One  lesson  is  to  be  learned  from  this  sad 
history,  that  in  attempting  to  save  the  souls  of  men, 
we  must  not  relax  our  efforts  on  the  vain  notion 
that  we  shall  have  plenty  of  time  because  our 
patient  is  strong  and  healthy.  Death  interposes, 
and  destroys  the  calculations  and  the  patient 
together. 


LEAVITT,  LORD  &  CO. 

BOOKSELLERS,  PUBLISHERS,  AND  IMPORTERS. 

NO.  182  BROADWAY,  NEW  YORK. 


VALUABLE  FAMILY  COMMENTARY. 


BARNES'    NOTES   ON    THE   NEW  TESTAMENT.— 

Notes,  Critical  and  Explanatory,  on  the  New  Testament. 
Designed  to  furnish,  in  a  plain,  comprehensive,  and  con- 
venient form,  the  substance  of  tne  various  larger  and  ex- 
pensive commentaries,  and  other  learned  works  which  are 
now  uncommon— such  as  Walton's  Polyglott;  the  Critici 
Sacri ;  Lightfoot's  Works  ;  Macknight  and  Newcome's 
Harmony  of  the  Gospels;  Jahn's  Archaeology:  Home's 
Introduction ;  the  Commentaries  of  Kuinoel,  Rosenmueller, 
Clarke,  Henry,  Doddridge,  &c.  The  object  has  been  to  ex- 
press, in  as  few  words  as  possible,  the  real  meaning  of  the 
Gospels;  the  results  of  their  critical  study,  rather  tnan  the 

Erocess  by  which  these  results  were  reached.  The  church 
as  long  felt,  in  its  Bible  Classes  and  Sabbath  Schools^  the 
need  of  just  such  a  Commentary  as  Mr.  Barnes  has  afford- 
ed, and  no  better  proof  can  be  given  of  its  adaptation  to 
the  wants  of  this  age  of  Sabbatn  Schools,  than  the  fact 
that  four  editions  of  the  Notes  on  the  Gospels  have  been 
already  sold,  being  the  first  year  of  their  publication. 
NOTES  ON  THE  GOSPELS,  with  a  l?rge,  elegant  Map 
of  Palestine.  Fifth  edition,  just  pubhshea.  [This  is  the 
tenth  thousand  of  these  '  Notes'  that  have  been  printed  the 
last  year.] 

NOTES  ON  THE  ACTS  OF  THE  APOSTLES.    By  the 

same;  just  published. 

"  Especially  valuable  for  the  amount  of  historical  illustration,  and  the 
directness  ot  research  employed  in  ascertaining  the  meaning  of  the 
Scriptures.  It  will  be  found  to  equal,  if  not  to  exceed,  in  these  respects, 
either  of  the  author's  volir.ics  on  the  Gospels."— X  Y.  Observer. 

NOTES  ON  THE  ROMANS.  Complete  in  one  volume. 
Just  published. 

QUESTIONS,  also,  have  been  prepared  by  Mr.  Barnes, 
expressly  for  Sabbath  Schools  and  Bible  Classes,  to  accom- 
pany his  'Notes.'  The  'Notes,'  in  connection  with  the 
'Q.uestions,'  form  a  complete  system  for  Sabbath  Schools 
and  Bible  Classes :  and  tne  only  wonder  is,  how  we  have 
done  without  such  a  system  as  long  as  we  have.  For  a 
specimen  of  the  adaptation  of  the  one  to  the  other,  com- 
pare 'Notes'  22dchap.  Matt,  with  'Questions' on  last  page. 


WORKS  PUBLISHED  BY  LEAVITT,  LORD  &  00. 

BIBLICAL  LITERATURE. 


ROBINSON'S  CALMET— 1  volume, with  Maps  and  Plates. 
CALMET'S  DICTIONARY  OF  THE  BIBLE,  as  pub- 
lished by  the  late  Mr.  Charles  Taylor,  with  the  Fragments 
incorporated.  The  whole  condensed  and  arranged  in  alpha- 
betical order.  Revised,  with  large  additions,  by  Edward 
Robinson,  Professor  Extraordinary  of  Sacred  Literature  in 
the  Theological  Seminary,  Andover,  1  vol.   royal  octavo. 

POLYMICRIAN  TESTAMENT.  32mo.  This  Testament 
contains  a  very  copious  selection  of  reaZZy  parallel  passages, 
being,  with  sovie  additio7is,the  same  as  are  found  in  the  Eng- 
lish Polyglott.  It  has  the  various  readings  in  a  centre  co- 
lumn, and  short  explanatory  notes,  that  will  be  acceptable 
to  a  numerous  class  of  readers — besides  5  maps,  illustrative 
of  the  holy  theatre  of  Christ  and  his  apostles'  labors.  This 
multum  in  paruo  book  is  ornamented  by  a  page  exhibiting 
specimens  of  48  different  languages. 

COMMENTARY  ON  THE  BOOK  OF  PSALMS.    No.  1, 

Ps.  1—3.  [To  be  published  in  periodical  numbers.]  By 
Geo.  Bush,  Professor  of  Hebrew  and  Oriental  Literature, 
in  the  New  York  Citv  University.     1834. 

As  the  several  Psalms  have  no  special  connection  with 
each  other,  and  each  of  the  numbers  may  be  considered 
complete  on  the  portion  it  embraces,  a  periodical  issue  was 
thought  preferable  to  a  delay  of  two  or  three  years  in  pub- 
hshing  the  entire  work.  The  numbers  will  be  published  at 
intervals  of  about  three  months,  at  50  cents  a  number,  and 
will  extend  to  ten  or  twelve. 

JAHN'S  BIBLICAL  ARCHAEOLOGY,  3d  edition. 

COMMENTARY  ON  THE  EPISTLE  TO  THE  HE- 
BREWS.    By  Professor  Stewart.    2d  edition,  Svo. 

RHEMISH  TESTAMENT.  New  Testament,  translated 
out  of  the  Latin  Vulgate,  and  first  published  by  the  Enghsh 
College  of  Rheims,  1582,  with  the  original  Preface,  Argu- 
vients,  and  Tables,  Marginal  Notes  and  Annotations,  and 
an  Introductory  Essay.    450  pp.  Svo.  1834. 

The  recommendations  of  more  than  one  hundred  distin- 
guished Divines  of  our  country,  (prefixed  to  this  book,)  un- 
fold the  importance  of  the  work,  as  a  book  of  reference,  for 
all  who  desire  to  comprehend  genuine  popery.  This  trans- 
lation and  notes  accompanying,  published  by  accredited  bo- 
dies, exhibit  Papacy,  delineated  by  their  own  master  artists. 

CONFUTATION  OF  THE  RHEMISH  TESTAMENT. 
By  William  Fulke,  D.  D.,  with  an  Introductory  Essay ; 
including  a  Biographical  Notice  of  the  author,  and  a  com- 
plete Topical  and  Textual  index.    420  pp.  Svo.    1834. 


WORKS    PUBLISHED    BV    LEAVITT,  LORD  &  CO. 

FAMILY  READING. 


ABBOTT'S  NEW  SERIES.  A  series  of  volumes,  of  a 
popular  and  practical  religious  character,  to  be  under  the 
editorial  charge  of  Mr.  Jacob  Abbott  and  brothers,  (authors 
of  the  "Young  Christian,"  "The  Teacher,"  "The  Mother 
at  Home,"  &c.)  The  series  will  consist  of  selections  from 
the  best  materials  already  existing,  or  of  original  works 
prepared  by  popular  writers  expressly  for  it.  It  is  intended 
to  comprise  works  illustrating  the  religious  and  moral  du- 
ties of  life,  interesting  narratives,  essays  on  family  duties 
and  responsibihties,  especially  those  of  parents  to  children, 
and  children  to  parents,  story  books  for  the  young,  &c. 
The  plan,  in  a  word,  includes  all  those  subjects  whicn  may 
afford  useful  or  interesting  family  reading. 

Each  volume  will  contain  from  250  to  300  pages,  in  a  neat 
18mo.  size,  occasionally  embellished  with  steel  engravings. 
Vol.  I. 

FIRE-SIDE  PIETY,  or  the  Duties  and  Enjoyments  of  Fa- 
mily Religion.  Its  Contents  are,  Part  I.  1.  Introduction. 
The  Master  of  a  Family  a  Vicegerent  and  not  a  Sovereign. 

2.  F'or  the  Parents.  The  Duty  and  value  of  Family 
Prayer.  3.  For  the  Older  Children.  The  Duty  and  Na- 
ture of  Individual  Prayer.  4.  For  the  Little  Children.  A 
Talk  with  John.  5.  A  Story  for  All.  The  Family  chang- 
ed. Part  II.  I.  Love  of  Home.  2.  The  Bible  to  be  Stu- 
died.   3.  The  Friend  in  Need. 

Vol.  II. 
THE  MOTHER'S  FRIEND.    From  the  English  edition, 
with  large  additions.     Edited  by  Jacob  Abbott.     Contents. 
Chap.  1.  Nature  of  the  Maternal  Trust.    2.  Early  Infancy. 

3.  First  Formation  of  Character.  4.  Influence  of  Early 
Associations.  5.  Activity  and  Industry.  6.  Vanity.  7. 
Truth.  8.  Obedience.  9.  Habits  of  Order.  10.  Early  Les- 
sons and  Amusements.  11.  Rewards  aud  Punishments. 
12.  The  Study  of  the  Bible. 

Vol.  III. 
CHINA  AND  THE  ENGLISH,  just  published. 

Vol.  IV. 
REAL     DIALOGUES     ON     THE     EVIDENCES     OF 
CHRISTIANITY,  from  "Death  Bed  Scenes."    Prepared 
for  this  Series.    iSmo. 


JUVENILE  SERIES.  A  new  series  of  small  volurnes, 
designed  for  the  moral  and  religious  improvement  of  Child- 
ren, is  in  course  of  preparation. 

Vol.  I.-THE  WAY  FOR  A  CHILD  TO  BE   SAVED, 

Just  published. 


WORKS  PUBLISHED  BY  LEAVITT,  LORD  &  00. 


FAMILY  READING. 


MOTHER  AT  HOME,  or  the  Principles  of  Maternal  Duty 
Familiarly  Illustrated.  By  J.  S.  C.  Abbott.  18mo.  6th  edit. 

"  Here  is  a  book  which  every  mother  ought  to  possess.  We  can  assure 
her  that  it  is  full  of  the  most  interesting  instruction,  beautifully  illustrated. 
The  author  of  this  work  is  brother  to  Jacob  Abbott,  who  wrote  '  The 
Young  Christian,'  and  he  has,  perhaps,  an  equal  versatility  of  talent, 
and  as  much  good  sense,  as  the  noted  author  of  that  fine  book." 

CHILD  AT  HOME,  or  the  Principles  of  Filial  Duty  Famili- 
arly Illustrated.  By  J.  S.  C.  Abbott.  18mo.  With  four 
plates.    4th  edition. 

FAMILY  AT  HOME,  or  Familiar  Illustrations  of  the  va- 
rious Domestic  Duties.    By  G.  D,  Abbott.     12mo. 

THE  YOUNG  LADY'S  BOOK  OF  PIETY;  a  Practical 
Manual  of  Christian  Duties,  for  the  formation  of  the 
Female  Character.    300  pp.  l8mo.  1835.    Just  published. 

THE  RELIGIOUS  OFFERING.  Here  the  religious  por- 
tion of  the  reading  community  are  presented  with  a  book, 
that  will  carry  to  their  children  and  friends,  in  as  attractive 
a  form  as  possible,  those  great  truths  that  relate  to  man  as 
a  moral,  responsible,  and  religious  being.  Just  published 
in  a  neat  12mo  volume. 

EVENING  EXERCISES  for  the  Closet,  for  every  day  in 
the  year.  By  Wm.  Jay.  Stereotype  edition.  The  superior 
excellence  of  this  work  is  universally  admitted.  Several 
thousand  copies  have  already  been  circulated. 

THE  FAMILY  MONITOR,  or  a  Help  to  Domestic  Happi- 
ness. By  John  Angbll  James.  Stereotype  edition.  12mo. 

CHRIST  OUR  EXAMPLE.  By  Caroline  Fry.  2d  edi- 
tion.   18mo. 

DR.  PAYSON'S  SELECT  THOUGHTS.    32mo. 

DOMESTIC  PORTRAITURE:  or  the  Successful  Applica- 
tion of  Religious  Principle  in  the  Education  of  a  Family. 
Exemplified  in  the  Memoirs  of  the  deceased  children  of  the 
Rev.  Legh  Richmond.    2d  American  edition.    l2mo. 

BIOGRAPHY  OF  DR.  PAYSON,  MRS.  HUNTINGTON, 
BURDER,  HALYBURTON,  &c. 


WORKS  PUBLISHED  BY  LEAVITT,  LORD  &  CO. 


POPULAR  MISCELLANEOUS  WORKS. 


JOURNAL    OP  A  RESIDENCE  IN    CHINA,   and  the 

neighboring  Countries,  from  1829  lo  1833.  By  David 
Abeel,  Missionary  of  the  A.  B.  C.  for  Foreign  Missions. 
I2mo.    pp.  398. 

CHINA.  AND    THE    ENGLISH.     Written  for  Abbott's 

Fire-side  Series.    i8mo.    With  plates. 

BIQGRAPHI  A.  LITER  ARIA,  or  Sketches  of  my  Literary 
Life  and  Opinions.    By  S.  T.  Coleridge.    New  edit.   Svo. 

NATURAL  HISTORY  OF  ENTHUSIASM.    4th  edition. 

SATURDAY  EVENING.  By  the  same  author.  4th  ed.l2mo. 

FANATICISM.    By  the  same  author. 

QUAKERISM  NOT  CHRISTIANITY.  By  S.  H.  Cox, 
D.  D.    Octavo. 

BENNETT  &  TYERMAN'S  JOURNAL  of  Missionary 
Voyages  in  various  parts  of  the  world.  Compiled  by  James 
Montgomery,  (the  poet.)  3  vols.  12mo.   With  engravings. 

THE  SIGNS  OF  THE  TIMES.    By  Keith.    2  vols. 

EVIDENCES  OF  CHRISTIANITY.    By  Bishop  Wilson, 

New  edition.    2  vols.  l2mo. 

BUTLER'S  ANALOGY  OF  RELIGION,  with  an  Essay 
by  Rev.  A.  Barnes.     Stereotype  edition.  12mo. 


EDUCATION. 


BUTTMANN'S    LARGER  GREEK  GRAMMAR,  trans- 
lated by  Professor  Robinson.    Octavo. 

STUART'S  HEBREW  TEXT  BOOKS. 

PORTER'S  RHETORICAL  READER.    7th  edition. 

PORTER'S    ANALYSIS   OF  THE    PRINCIPLES  OF 

RHETORICAL  DELIVERY.    5th  edition. 

STONE'S  CHILD'S  READER,  on  a  new,  popular  plan, 
ISmo. 

CAMPBELL'S  PHILOSOPHY  OF  RHETORIC.    Svo. 

MISS  BEECHER'S  GEOGRAPHY,  for  ChUdren.   ISmo. 

ALEXANDER'S  ANNALS  OF  THE  JEWS.    12ino. 


